Broken Ballerina
by neverland300690
Summary: "If I stop today it was still worth it. Even the terrible mistakes that I made and would have unmade if I could. The pains that have burned me and scarred my soul, it was worth it, for having been allowed to walk where I've walked." - Gia Carangi -
1. Chapter 1

_AN: I have a real fixation for taking on minor character that we know very little of in the books and exporing them in my own ways. I hope you all like this version of Dorcas Meadows.  
Let me know your thoughts! :D_

_I read somewhere that there are two wolves battling inside us. One is evil, and represents hate, anger, arrogance, intolerance, superiority, spite, distain . The other is good, and represents joy, love, tolerance, kindness and compassion. It said that the one we feed most will win the fight.  
_

**_Changeling_**

7.30 am.

The noise in the Great Hall was so loud it made me remember the time I came across a bee nest in the grounds of my family's summer estate. It seemed like every mouth in the Great Hall was opened… and they were _not_ eating. To make matters worse, the black smoke that fell from the ceiling was becoming thicker and it smelled like burned porridge (which, if you really _must_ know, it's very close to rotten potatoes). Even the color of the decorating house flags over each table had lost their meaning, now looking dirty, smoke stained.

It was impossible not to notice that the pink rose petals that had been raining all morning from the ceiling, burned to black as soon as they fell to a certain height, as if passing through an invisible sheet of fire. Needless to say that the decoration's purpose had been lost to the new ebony color.

To tell the truth, I liked them better burned to black. I was fully convinced that the pink shade they had been before had been created soly for my eyes' irritation. The horrid stench that was growing ever more powerful was harder to appreciate though. It was starting to smell more and more like bile or something.

In fewer words, the Great Hall might as well have been a troll's toilet... so my sudden lack of appetite was utter justifiable.

"What is going on here? Oh my God_, _not_ again_!... I _swear_, this year someone is getting expelled for this!"

Evans' voice was shrill. Apparently that was the best representation of ager she was capable of. Was her yelling supposed to induce fear I wonder. What were people supposed to be scared of, more yelling?

I scoffed a little at her reaction. The mudblood was seriously lacking when it came to intimidation skills. But that was not more irritating than her incompetence when it came to cleaning up the mess.

And look at the way she was fuming to passersby! Like she hadn't been expecting this.

_Please_! An atrocious Valentine's day at Hogwarts was a tradition now.

Every year, this being the sixth one straight, someone would crush the 14th of February in the most horrid of manners. It was worse that April's Fools Day: there would be traps everywhere, all sorts of stupid pranks, mostly designed to humiliate (and people always laughed)…

Like the trap-closet that jumped out of the blue, sucked boys in and then spit them out wearing pink bras and small lace thongs. Honestly, who could possibly find boys in the nude funny?! With all that hair growing in the most uncommon places, it was a gag-worthy sight.

God, the sick humor of some people!

All the students were used to avoiding certain areas of the school in that day, me included. It was too tiresome to start taking vengeance on a mischievous closet or a biting mistletoe that wouldn't stop calling you nasty names. I had better use of my time.

However I seemed to be the only one able to dodge them – which, again, didn't surprise me. The intelligence of people in this castle was laughable. It's a disgrace that some were allowed to continue staying here.

The funny thing was that nobody knew who was responsible for the pranks. All the traps disappeared the first second past midnight of the 14'th. I suspected a timed charm that held them all together. It was quite brilliant from a magical point of view, I had to admit. One had to admire the nerve and vicious imagination of it all.

At first everyone had suspected the four Gryffindor clowns that were always causing all sorts of troubles. But after Glasses was turned into a very ugly transvestite, Lupin was chased around the castle by 1400 flying _biting_ daisies, the short fat one got beaten up by 14 green hairy - and foul smelling - gnomes dressed in magenta tutus (even I had to laugh at that one), and Black started singing '_Dancing in the rain'_, '_Marry me Lucy'_ or some other ridiculous song every 30 minutes… well, it was fairly clear that those boys had nothing to do with it.

So naturally, the questions started to arise, and with them the curiosity. Measures were taken to assure that nothing would happen. They always failed, because something always happened. There was no help from the staff either. Dumbledore had said that decorations are a matter of point of view, and that since it is allowed to decorate the hall with pink, then why not it be allowed to decorate it with more _smellier_ things. Everyone deserved a chance to express themselves.

Yeah right! Maybe it was just me, but I always thought that old Dumbledore actually enjoyed the situation.

Well, his mental health had always been in question, so no surprise there.

If the Prefects or Headboy/Headgirl had asked me, the advice I _wouldn't_ give them was that they were looking for the culprit in all the wrong places. I had a very accurate suspicion about who it was that was pulling the strings, but nobody would believe me if I told them.

And besides, watching the student body squirm their way through what was supposed to be a special day for romantic idiots was actually good fun once you got the hang of it.

I looked at the great pains Evans was taking at trying to reverse the burning of the decorations. All in vain, of course. Every time someone tried to make them stop, the intensity of the incantation doubled. Evans was furious and in her rage she was completely impotent, so naturally she was proving a very funny sight for me.

I was tempted to go over there and tell her that I knew who was responsible, just so that I could watch her squirm. That would be a fun way to irritate her I suppose.

More than once I'd thought about starting a duel with her just for the fun of it. Every time I saw her I felt like putting a scar on that pretty face, to spite her perfection, her beauty. I knew her skills in a fight. By instinct I compared her to my standards, knowing that even had we had equal knowledge of magic – which we did _not_ - I would still win: because she would play fair and I most definitely would not.

She was book-smart, yes, but she had never experienced what a real duel was. She did not know how to fight fire with fire, I doubted she even had the nerve for it. She didn't know what it was like to fight to draw blood, to be cornered enough to feel like you were fighting for your life… and what it was like to know, deep in the inmost part of you, that if you had to kill to survive – you would.

I stopped the stream of those dark thoughts. Such a deep comparison was unnecessary when it came to Evans: she was a mudblood, therefore worthless of my consideration or even a speck of my thoughts.

The fact that I was thinking about her now was testimony to two things: one - I was incredibly bored. Two - Evans was being way too loud.

I fumbled with my half finished food again, now irritated by all the chaos. The smell was nauseating.

I stood and headed to finish my last day of school for this week before I went back to my mother's house for the weekend. My sister was getting married and I had to attend her celebration. It couldn't be more tedious but I _had_ to be there. I was born in privilege and that carried the duties of unforgiving formality.

I couldn't escape the dullest bits of my family life even if I tried. And I _had_ tried, in all the forms imagination could create. But the rules of this world could not bend, let alone break – not even if it was _me_ willing them to do so. So with the possibility of escape out of my reach, all I had left was trying to endure.

Interesting choice of word - _'endure'_. When I put it like that, it sounded like I was carrying a disease…

The scoff that escaped was out of my control. Of course it was not a disease; it my destiny - the one I was born into. One cannot control one's fate or the family one belongs to. I had stretched my limits to fit the rules and obligations of my family's lifestyle, but that did not mean I had to like it.

It didn't mean I had to like anything really. Hogwarts was boring, home was irritating, away from home was impossible…

I sighed and with my books over my shoulder I walked past the group of girls giggling at the end of the table and headed to Potions.

oOoOoOo

"I didn't do anything wrong."

I was calm when I spoke. I never lost control, not even when I lost my temper. Time had taught me well.

And so had the unnumbered nights I had spent in the dark, sleepless and angry, consuming myself with powerless hate, born of hurt and humiliation.

There's a funny thing about anger and hate though, something that nobody tells you: Once you learn how to channel them, they are not powerless anymore. They become your best friend. They are feelings that can bend and change at your will, feelings you can use, manipulate. They can be hard and soft according to what you need from them.

They cradled me, taught me to get what I wanted by any means. They taught me independence from ideologies of right and wrong. How to rule the moment instead of being its slave.

They taught me patience.

For example, that Hufflepuff would have remained insignificant if she had kept her place. She was something empirically inconsequential in my world. If she hadn't given me a reason to squash her, I wouldn't have known she existed. But she did and I would make her think twice about speaking ill of me behind my back.

But experience had taught me that acting rashly is not the way to go about getting anything.

"I saw you put the Gillyweed in the cauldron, Meadows. You did it on purpose, don't deny it." Abbot said, her soft voice trying to be strong, the result sounding pathetic.

Lupin was seated next to her and he put an arm over her shoulder as the useless girl cried because of her wounds. Lupin looked so calm, but his eyes were shining and the emotion in them was very clear. Curiously, he was not angry at me. There was contempt in him, as if he scorned me but he was too good to hate me.

I felt the corner of my lip twitch in a smirk, as I brought my chin up to meet his scorn like it was a personal challenge.

The funny thing about people like Lupin was the fact that they thought they had morals, some kind of code they held and hoped that by doing so, it would protect them. All a bad joke if you ask me. I had seen those that called themselves '_good people'_. I had seen them abandon their morals at the first sign of trouble. When the shit hit the fan, everyone became what they really were inside: ruthless and selfish.

At least I was always coherent with my nature.

"Careful, Hufflepuff. A loud mouth can bring about trouble… I said that it was not my fault and that is the truth." I stated calmly.

I was actually trying to amuse myself now. The way the girl's face paled when I warned her brought about a strange feeling in me. Was it pleasure I was feeling? It was probably the high that having such power over people brought. But it faded quickly. Abbot was weak, there could be no real pleasure from hurting her. She was so beneath me, practically a bug at my feet.

The burns on her hands would stay there for a while though, and they would probably teach her not to entertain gossip about people that could snap her neck in the darkness of a hallway and get away with it.

I smirked at the looks of the Red students. They were hoping so strongly for me to be punished. Everyone saw that I had been the last one to get close to the potion, so naturally, in the long run it would have been my fault.

But I had also been really close. I wouldn't harm myself intentionally, would I?

Would I...?

"Now, now, Dorcas dear, don't be rude. Megan, my darling, it was an accident. Dorcas would never do something so reckless when she was standing mere feet from the cauldron herself…" Professor Slughorn said softly, trying to calm her down. "We are studying advanced potion making after all, things like these happen. This is why you are required to wear gloves and protective masks during these hours."

Now I was bored again. Must everything be such a short tease?

This girl's sobs were getting on my nerves. The way Lupin was trying to soothe her from something that needed no soothing at all, irritated me further. I hated melodrama. It was such an eye-roller.

"She'd have known that, if she had any idea what she was doing 5 minutes ago. Anyone with half a brain could see the chain reaction and get away." I deadpanned, looking into the eyes of a scared Megan Abbot, trying to feel the same high again. But it was long gone by now.

Her weakness so despicable, something that alienated me to the core.

"Calm down, Meg. Let's go to Madam Pomfrey, she'll make you feel better." Lupin said softly.

"But I _saw_ her! She knew what she was doing when she changed the roots!" Abbot whimpered. She actually _whimpered_! I felt disgust bubble inside me for this infuriatingly _innocent_ girl!

Had she not been outside of her houses walls ever in her life?! Of all the things one could do when one got hurt, she was _whimpering_, like a helpless baby.

She wouldn't last 5 hours in my household.

"Oh please, how can anyone take you at your word when you can't even _begin_ to tell the difference of a Gillyweed from a coconut, for Merlin's sake!" I did say this out loud, but the fat man was too busy trying to put contain the mess that the exploding potion had caused. It was far too easy for him to pretend that he didn't hear me when nearly all the class did.

Lupin narrowed his eyes, while all the students in the class, except for the my Slytherin housemates, were staring at me with anger burning their features.

It somehow made me feel a little exited when I was able to provoke them so deeply. There was power in manipulation, in knowing that I could extract such a strong reaction from someone while myself remaining completely cold. The lot of these idiots were far too easy to mess with and it wasn't nearly as satisfying as it should be, but making Remus _holier-than-thou_ Lupin glare daggers… _that_ was quite an accomplishment!

I knew that this was making my fellow house-mates uncomfortable as well. We were maybe 6, while they (with _they_ meaning the non-Slytherins) were almost 14.

My smirk widened - I loved a little challenge. I knew that nothing would happen to _me_, but as for the rest, well, too bad for them.

In fact, maybe I would just _have_ to make sure that they all got caught. Why not, I could do it, it wouldn't be difficult. They would get into a fight sooner or later, since the Gryffindors were always trying to get us for just about anything - and we never let them run out of opportunities.

I was entertained by the idea to some extent, but the scorn was right on its tail. I hated them all - Gryffindors, Slytherins – their stupidity was all the same to me. All of them deserved punishment for being dense enough to believe we were of different kinds. Having the misplaced audacity to fight each-other in the name of that belief only added insult to injury.

Who holds that kind of stupidity deserves punishment.

"You are one lying hell-bitch, Meadows and we all know that."

The words came deliberately slow and sharp as knifes. They missed my ego by far though. Ironically, Black had said them, he who was supposed to know better than the rest that insults like that hardly meant anything to me.

"Mister Black, you shall hold your tongue in my class! You will get 10 points taken for that unworthy remark and you shall apologize to Miss Meadows this instant for your disrespect."

Slughorn might be the daftest, most materialistic person ever to have lived, but sometimes he did manage to do some things right.

I raised one eyebrow expectantly to Black, presenting the most arrogant smirk I could master, expecting his apology, knowing it wouldn't come. He was raised a pureblood aristocrat and one of the few mantras you were taught as one was that power meant never having to say you're sorry. We never apologized for anything and even though Black denied being one of us, he could not deny himself.

"I'm not apologizing for stating facts." He said calmly. Being right felt so good.

"Then it will be detention Mister Black. After class, you shall clean up the mess that was just made."

I almost laughed out loud at this part. Sirius Black was going to clean up my mess, like a servant. Oh, I was never going to let him live that down. Black's eyes seemed to almost pop out of their sockets as he looked at the fat man, too amazed even to glare.

But that changed soon enough.

Blood was in his mind as he stared at me, I could tell. I knew that look well, and the fire in his eyes was familiar too. I saw Potter put a hand on his shoulder and most of the class served as audience to my sneer of victory, directed right into their faces.

I could see what they were thinking, it was written plainly on their faces. They all hated me maybe just as much as they feared me. In that moment, I knew that this was the closest to pleasure I could get within the castle walls.

I enjoyed every second of it.

They would try to get back at me, I knew that. But since they had no idea who I was, they also had no idea what could upset me. Their efforts would result in vain no matter what they tried to do. None of them knew me well enough to point their wands where it would hurt. All that strength and still nothing to threaten me with.

None of them could match me that sense, so that made the game unfair and predictable, but not less fun for me.

Almost like a social experiment – I thought smirking. I was the scientist, they were the lab-rats. And I knew their limits well. Beyond those limits, people like Lupin and Potter, couldn't go. It was Pettigrew and Black that I should be concerned about - those were the truly dangerous kind. People who didn't know their limits - like Pettigrew - and people that could push their limits to a straining point to get what they wanted - like Black.

Ah, Black... It was so easy to see through his facade. He was nothing but a liar to me, pretending to be good and decent, pretending to belong in the House of the brave, when in truth, his very core was as rotten as mine. He was a born pureblood, raised like one, with all the telltale signs of one in his character.

He was no better than the ones he hated - me in particular, even thought he liked to pretend that he was.

The bell rang and I took my time collecting my things.

I saw most of the Gryffindors leave class, probably in a hurry to prepare a trap for us. A few of the Slytherins were waiting for me. Like I needed their protection! Like I needed _anything _from any of them! _Please_! The mere idea was laughable.

I got up and walked past the huge frames of Nott and Parkinson, not bothering to let them keep up with me.

I despised their attempts to preserve what they thought mattered. The way they liked to drool over the little scraps of entertainment I provided them with disgusted me. As did the insignificant things that made them all jumpy with vile enthusiasm. It was a distorted image of reality they chose to see: by birth right was the only way baboons like Nott and Parkinson would ever be on top. Their way of thinking, the way that was supposed to be mine as well, had been proved wrong a thousand years ago. Still they persisted upon it, upon the blood and its treasures…

Bullshit. I wasn't the best because I was born of purer blood. I was the way I was because I was _raised _to be that way.

I had had the best training, learned from the most efficient methods, learned how to yield the most powerful magic. My talent was the only thing I owed to my blood. The easy affiliation and manipulation of my magic was the result of being close to it from the moment I had been born. Without honing the inborn skill, I would be no better than Malfoy or Black.

Purebloods were the best because we had the best honing methods, the best tricks up our sleeves - results of an eons-old tradition of stabbing each other in the back to get what we wanted.

That was not the way Nott or the likes of him saw the world though.

I didn't believe in what they believed, not because I had other allegiances but because I was smart enough to see past the indoctrination. Like everything else, the play on blood purity was a political game very few caught up with.

The mixing of the magical and non-magical folk had increased, and in the long run, that was the main reason why old families were not as powerful and influential as they once had been. There were too few remaining, the concentration of wealth was spreading. They had lost power (and gold) to the newcomers, who were much more practical in their customs than their old ways and traditions.

But when old gold starts losing value, that's when things turn ugly.

People like Nott and Avery didn't even want to see that truth. They liked it the easy way, of course. People like Malfoy used it for power and benefit.

People like me... well, there aren't many people like me. I was taught how to use other people and their views to my advantage only, but never to believe in general lies one tells the crowd. The Meadows were made to stand above that. We weren't to be lied to, we were the liars.

I was taught that what you believe in doesn't matter, as long as you're on top. And what you _do_ doesn't matter, as long as you find a way of staying there.

What I learned for myself though, is none of your business!


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: I have a real fixation for taking on minor character that we know very little of in the books and exporing them in my own ways. I hope you all like this version of Dorcas Meadows.  
Let me know your thoughts! :D_

_How can you hurt someone who feels nothing? _

**_The unfeeling_**

There was an ambush in the first floor corridor, as I expected. Some of the thickest, proudest Gryffindors, and maybe others from the other houses had been waiting for us, for _me _specifically. I knew it would happen of course, I was counting on it.

They liked to pick on us, taking advantage of our view of the world, when in fact they just needed someone to be the villain so that they could get the fight they so wanted. They needed us, so they could vomit on us the hate and pain that the outside world, was causing them.

I let them brawl; I even got the party started a little and enjoyed the show for a while, before hiding away when I knew Filch would show up. The commotion could be heard to the end of the corridor. I ran for it, in the back of my mind jaded by the repetitiveness of these situations despite the adrenaline that was rushing in my veins.

Halfway to my dorm, I saw Filch approach. I sighed and rolled my eyes. He was running, looking like a confounded duck. He saw me all dusty and yelled for me to stop. I had a chalk-ball thrown at me, right over the head ... and the one who threw it would not be able to walk straight for e few days, no matter what Madame Ponfrie did to him. I held my steps but before he could even start, I spoke first.

"Well, what are you waiting for? They are tearing each other apart up there! Move it, Filch!"

The idiot fidgeted for a moment and then started running again. God, how can someone be so _dense_?! Sometimes he actually managed to amaze me with his idiocy!

When I got to the corridor that led me to the hole that was my common room, I saw four Gryffindors standing on both sides of the hall. It was a little strange to see them missing out on an opportunity to hex some Slytherins, but of course, they were here waiting for me, so all might not be lost for them yet…

I didn't falter in my steps thought, gave them a look of cold disregard as I slid past them. They did nothing to stop me. Maybe the cold demeanor was getting to them.

"Meadows!"

I stopped and turned as gracefully as I could, trying to point out more differences between us. I knew it always got to their nerves how I never directly gave them an excuse to fight. Though I knew that if it had been in Black's hands, he would have hexed my bones inside a matchbox years ago.

"I know it was you." Black said through gritted teeth. A simple, but still unsubstantial statement. I just raised my eyebrow at him, trying to stop every other muscle from moving. What I really wanted to say was:

_So?! _

I suppose they read it in my face, because their expressions furrowed in unison.

"Don't do things like that anymore, or you will get an adequate response." Glasses spoke this time.

If I had been susceptible to their judgment, I would have found their nerve in confronting me irritating. They should have known I didn't care and the fact that they still persisted was pathetic. They had co connection with me whatsoever, except for the presumed beliefs they had about how one of my status should be like.

They did not know anything of _me_. All they saw was my reaction to their _perception_ of me.

All they knew was what I showed them, nothing more.

And still, we were bound to each other by the kind of union that brings together life-long enemies. Distrust and hate were part of it…

Funny how some things turn out just the way you wanted… and then you get bored of them.

Fate was not without a sense of irony apparently. How well I knew _that_!

"Are you really stupid enough to think that you can intimidate me with anything you say?" My voice sounded contemptuous even to my ears. It should.

And they just stood there, looking at me, unable to say anything. Unable to do anything. They just stared menacingly, and I hated them for it. Their powerlessness to reach me, to get to me in any, suddenly became their only fault.

_Do_ something! Hurt me, hex me.

_Do something!_

I felt like screaming in their face. My own invincibility was hurting me and suddenly being so out of touch made me feel, for the first time in years, the taste of true hatred… I couldn't stop the fury from taking over… Which was stupid because as soon as I let that happen, I could hardly control myself.

I had to leave. I had to, or I was liable to do something stupid like send one of them in the nursery with irreparable damage.

I went inside my common room and barricaded myself in my room. I felt so explosive that I was liable to tear apart the first person to step in my line of sight.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

Suddenly there was this pressure in my chest that kept getting stronger and I had no idea where it came from, but it was making me want to tear something apart with my bare hands. I paced back and forth like a caged animal, trying hard get my temper under control.

This was not the first time it flared so violently, but usually there was a tangible reason behind my outbursts. Usually, I could comprehend myself. This time the feelings inside me were battling so fiercely that I could not make sense of them.

Was I really so close to my breaking point that now I couldn't even understand myself?

I stopped, and tried to search my own emotions… but I found I had no words for them anymore. There was no more simple anger or contempt or distain. Feelings had formed chains of indissoluble emotions that didn't tell themselves apart. One long chain whapped around me, made of sadness-that-preludes-disaster and despair-that-comes-through-loneliness and anger-that-cements-the-insides so strongly that nothing can get through…

…a frozen eternity inside me, so long reigning in me that I was surprised my skin had not turned into stone yet.

And I realized why I was feeling like a rabid tiger.

I was my own prisoner now. Nothing hurt me, nothing could reach me. There was such despair in that realization that it was almost like falling into an abyss of pitch blackness.

I knew I would be grateful for every second of pain anyone would be so strong to inflict me. If only someone - _anyone_ - could get through these walls I had built and that I could no longer escape from.

Maybe if they got through, they would show me the way out as well.

oOoOoOo

The boys watched her retreating back, her long and normally pitch black hair whitened by the chalk dust, as she walked away from them in a slow pace, seemingly impervious to their threat. Her bottomless black eyes had looked at James with the ultimate emptiness in them, with just a hint of mockery, when he made a threat that should have at least put her on her toes.

And then when they had been unable to say anything else, they had watched as her numbness took on a different shape and they had watched the hatred burn in her eyes like fire. Her face had almost contorted with it. That was the only moment she tensed, when her own anger took over.

Their presence hadn't drawn any reaction from her not even a change in her breathing patter, let alone get her wand out or any other form of protection or aggression. They had been four, their reputation preceding them and she was by herself. Yet nothing, no response from her except cold disregard and contempt at best.

Of course, her reputation had preceded her as well, so maybe they shouldn't be so surprised.

"She is creepy," Peter said, looking at the corner where Medadows had long disappeared. "She reminds me of Bellatrix, but she is a lot creepier. Bellatrix had something wrong in her head, but Meadows… she is like, downright _evil_."

He sounded serious and the look on his face suggested that he meant it not as a joke, but as a real evaluation of the personality of the girl that had just left. Nobody contradicted him.

The boys started walking away of the stiff air that filled the dungeons.

"I think we should keep an eye on her, _for real_ this time. The way she is going, someone could really get hurt. Her pranks are getting… well Slytherins have always been eerie, but she is getting dangerous now that she is on her own." James looked worried and the other boys were silent.

"Have you guys ever thought that maybe we could be wrong?" Remus murmured, his tone hesitating, as if he himself hardly believed what he was saying.

The three other boys looked at him with amazement.

"No!" the three of them gave the same response at the same time, looking at their friend in confusion. Remus sighed wearingly and tried to explain the trail of thought that he himself was very skeptical about.

The boys knew that Remus had a very limited amount of patience for people of her kind, especially after what happened to his father. Therefore, they decided there must be a real reason for Moony to think that way, even if the facts were against him.

"I know who she is, but think about it: no-one has ever found a shred of evidence to connect her to anything. We always just _assumed_ that she did those hoaxes after Bellatrix and Malfoy left, since not many others would have the balls to. But she doesn't look like the kind that would be entertained by them, does she? And Dumbledore would have done something if she was really what we think she is, wouldn't he? Yet nothing! Not even today did I see anything and I _was_ looking!"

"She is _Dorcas Meadows_, Moony. Do you think she leaves signs? She is smarter than Malfoy and cares for nothing, unlike Bellatrix! It's what makes her so bloody dangerous." Sirius seemed very convinced of what he was saying.

He didn't need to talk to Dorcas Meadows to know her. He had _seen_ her every day, in a minimum of 6 hours per day, for 6 years straight. He knew her without actually knowing her, because he knew every other variation of people like her.

It wasn't like there was much to know about her anyway. Sirius had seen her with her family once, on an official party he had been made to attend.

Her mother and sister were as fake, pompous, posh and prejudiced as all the other people of their status. With those they deemed under themselves, they were as cold as the Scandinavian beauty they possessed.

But Meadows was another story.

Sirius would have never believed her to be related to the other two, with her olive skin and raven hair, and black-as-night eyes. But the shape of those eyes was exactly like her mothers, their faces shadows of each other.

But unlike her mother and sister, Dorcas never even bothered to fake a smile, she was snooty and sarcastic with all, looked down on everyone, even on _his_ own mother (which had been fun to watch, he had to admit). There was distain in her eyes, ridicule in her tone, malevolence in the glare of her vacuum-like eyes, pure selfishness behind her every gesture.

Still, despite all that, she never lacked company.

Company like Malfoy, Nott, Avery, Mulciber and the lot of them. All older, all destined to end up as Death Eaters – if they weren't so already. He remembered how Bellatrix and she would always be seen together, even though their relation was hard to be thought as friendship. Neither one of the girls looked or behaved too friendly toward the other.

But they were on the same page on lots of things: Like hexing first years or playing cruel jokes on people.

Sure, the Marauders were pranksters as well, but they knew the line. Meadows and Bella had been about three miles ahead of that line every single time.

"Do you think she did that in Potions just because of what Meg said? You guys think she heard that?" Peter asked again, not really directing his question to anyone in particular.

"What _did_ Meg say?" James asked turning to face Remus. He had missed this part, he was too concentrated on keeping Sirius at bay.

"She commented on the fact that no-one sits with Meadows ever since Bellatrix left, and that she had heard that the Slytherins are even wearier around her than others… '_Since they knew her better, and what she is capable of_'.' Those were her exact words," Remus looked the other three. He sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes as if they ached.

"I think that was hardly the reason though. Meadows doesn't exactly strike me as someone that takes her revenge as it comes. She must have planned on today. That is, if it was her in the first place." Remus mused tiredly.

"I don't care why she does it, if she ever hurts _anyone_ again, she is going to get a dose of her own medicine," Sirius mumbled, his eyes telling a longer story.

That girl was not an enigma to him. She was just as cruel as her kind had always been. But what made her dangerous weren't her sadistic methods, it was the fact that she was a tad stronger than most and a little smarter, and that she was less emotional then a corpse. It looked like nothing could possibly faze her. There were only two reasons for it to be that way, but Sirius found himself uncaring of either.

Remus sighed again, this time in defeat.

"I don't think that anything we say to her will put her off anyway. We need to find her weak point if we want to stop her. I don't want to hurt her physically; it sounds like something _they_ would do." The disgust was palpable in Remus's voice as he said the words. Apparently the boys' silence showed that they agreed on that particular point. However, Sirius was not so sure.

"That is if she even has a weak point. For God's sake, I've seen corpses show more emotion that she does! I've known people like her for the best part of my life - I was raised by one. She is a scheming little bitch with her nose in the air who needs a good beating. Nothing will make her stop, if we don't show her that, we _can_ stop her."

_AN: So, what do you make of it so far? Can't wait to hear your opinions of this my take on this character._


	3. Chapter 3

How can you hurt those who feel nothing?

**Cracked mask**

"Marvelous, simply dreamlike my dear."

"Oh, what a wonderful color!"

Eyes that skim over everything so very gently, with perfect manners and the most elegant of false smiles. These people never had enough glamour to fog my eyes. I was one of them, raised to master their ways, taught to measure my speech since the moment I spoke my first word, to watch my walk since the time I took my first step, when to smile each kind of smile - because there were many, when to listen with poise and when to strike like a cobra, fast and lethal. In gatherings like this, the picture we all painted was always surreal in my eyes, getting darker and darker with every passing year. Now it resembled a zombie masquerade: rotten people dressed beautifully.

I turned my eyes in another direction, blinking fast, taking a sip from my drink, scorning myself for letting my thoughts scatter. This house did that to me, it made me so much more alert of myself and my state of stupor. I hated it for this. Every time I came here, I felt even those pieces of dignity left in me break up. Some strange, impulsive beast would come out when I was here, demanding the strangest of things from me… but no more thoughts about that now…

"Congratulations Cassandra, Maximus is a very powerful man!"

What is in a name? Everything is in a name. The whole universe crumbled together in a few letters. It carries nothing in itself, but it affects everything around it. Like a black hole.

"I'm so jealous of you! Now you are part of the O'Connell's!"

"I'm a Meadows first, Grace, they are the ones that should be proud to have me."

False pride in something she does not understand beyond her own sense of greatness, something she does not care enough to want to unveil. She is not interested in the filth that lies under the pretty carpet. Her thoughts are the essence of herself. She is nothing but a beautiful façade. One that has been put there not to hide a deeper meaning, but to hide the lack of it…

Could we be more different, my beautiful sister?

"You are ruining your skin with that frown. Be beautiful tonight, so many are looking at you, it would be an utter stupidity to not to take advantage of it… Matilda dear, how are you?"

The sentence is not finished, because Lady Mackintosh turns our way, and mother promptly smiles, her amazingly beautiful face the picture of utter delight, as she embraces the woman she scorns. She does, because she is not allowed to be anything but perfectly social… and because Lord Mackintosh is too rich and well-connected to be ignored. There is a good reason mother despises Lady Mackintosh. She is a rare kind in our world, the sincere kind. Unfortunately, that kind has a short life… sincerity dies quickly here, like flowers feeding on poison.

"Kiria, darling! A magnificent feast and a glorious bride… And a maid of honor that almost stole the attentions." One of her white smiles was directed to me and I felt myself smile back to her. It wasn't hard, she was very nice and there was no shadow over her eyes. She opened her arms, offering me one of her light embraces.

"My dearest Dorcas, you grow more beautiful with every passing season. You compliment this gorgeous gown more than it will ever compliment you, sweetheart."

"Thank you, Lady Mackintosh."

"Oh, nonsense. You can call me Matilda. Lady Mackintosh seems so old! So, tell me, whose heart are you breaking these days?"

I put up the playful face promptly. "Oh, I'm taking a break this week." Lady Mackintosh laughs like bells. She is lovely, yes, but she is nothing more than a stranger. Another stranger in a ceremony that prided itself for its so very good business accomplishment. Because that's what this was. The deal was sealed with the diamond ring, now its being celebrated for all to see, for our name's vanity. The sheer size and arrogant luxury of the thing stands to prove my point.

The wedding was supposed to look regal in anyone's eyes. Everything was designed to impress even the most difficult of guests. And there were some people there, that only a royal wedding would have had… Yet, even though I could appreciate the beauty of the decoration, it didn't mean that this could stop me from being fed up with them. Few could understand that if you were raised in the luxury of some things, they started to mean very little, in time. Next to nothing…

My sister, that day more than ever, looked like the princess she believed to be. She had a sharp beauty, pure, the one that only girls in magazines could have. Peaches on her skin, hair of pale gold and wide eyes of the color of the sky on a clear spring day. The poster girl for Perfect daughter, with a perfect resume and the perfect anomaly: the lack of interest in having a thought of her own.

I had sighed as I walked down the idle, with a silly azure dress on that would have made a princess green of envy. I knew that I looked stunning in it and that the color complimented my olive skin beautifully, that my hair was perfect and that I looked like a dream in that moment. I had been projected to be that way, the most enviable girl there, except for the bride.

Mother loved it when others desired her things.

Al this celebration, it was not just a closure, a vanity fair. I was far from stupid. There was a reason all mothers friends who had sons had been envied, that all celibate young men mother knew were there. It was my unofficial debut, my mother 'chunking the waters', calculating. It was a mating ritual.

I was 16.

I can remember only one occasion in which I have been this disgusted. However, as I slipped into the shadows quietly, I knew that I have never been in such a state of rebellion. It was true, violent and burning straight from the pit of my heart. That instinctive thing in me was surging again and I was aware that I was dangerous. I could hardly control it: the desire to scream into their faces, bite them, tear them apart with my hands, scratch their faces till I draw blood with and bring out the real demon in those people, the ones I knew so well.

It was easy to blame them for everything. They were the thick columns that held this system up. They were the keepers of my cage. I wanted to kill them all from making me into this statue of false manners, hurt my mother as much as she hurt me with those chains she had around me that I just couldn't shake off. Rip her soul for bringing under the same roof that I live, that hideous mediocre being she called man. Demanding respect for a creature that was nor my father or my equal, for a depravation of human nature who had nothing to teach me except new ways to hate him. An excuse for a human being that loved to experiment with knifes. How I hated him. Hated him so much I knew I could kill him if I had the chance and even enjoy it. I had killed plenty little insects, imagining it was him that perished under the green light. I practiced Crucio on spiders, in the insane hope of seeing his face contorted in fear and pain one day. God, I hated him so much I was sure that the need to annihilate him it would drive me insane…

I wanted to destroy this fake world for being born in it, for being imprisoned in it. Extinguish this world of unbreakable rules that was turning me into my own nightmare, blurring away the boundaries between my charade and my real self. I was losing my soul to it and it hurt, as if I had a knife in my gut. What is the worst, is that the only times I truly feel this, the only way I am able to tell the difference between who I am and who I pretend to be, is by living under her rules, by looking into her eyes. Into the eyes of the woman that made me… and see part of myself in them. I have still enough sense to be scared by this. I promised myself that the day it stops scaring me would be the day everything would be over.

I had tried many times to understand why felt things the way I did, why I was so unhappy with all I had even thought it was so much… why I despised this unrelenting world of lies and deceit, hating it, when others like me seemed so content with it. What had made me different, alienated me from my world?

I had searched for this answers for so long. Why, why, why…? I always had been looking for reasons, never finding them. When I was mature enough, and angry enough, to realize there were none I tried to break free, but it was too late. There was no way out of your home, your life. You are born into it; you are bound to it forever. Literally. All pureblood are. There are no reasons, there is no need for them because nobody ever ask questions. If you do, fire is what awaits you.

This is where that beast in me had its origins. This giant trap that was my life, built by rules old as the magic itself. This ambush is where all that anger, that viciousness came from. That was the only part that wasn't a pretense. Oh no, that was very much real, it was all me all my impotent anger, turned to those that I could hurt, just to make them feel a tiny bit of what I was feeling. I was unhappy and the fault lied with the world. Why shouldn't the world pay for my suffering? Why shouldn't it suffer too? Why, why, why… always asking questions.

The answer to that particular question lied with me, I knew that. With that part of me that was always withering inside, insane with desire to get out, to escape and that would do anything just not to be alone in its misery. That part was more like myself than the rest of me would ever be. All this pretending in the end had eaten away at every superficial part of me, leaving this distorted creature on the inside: a wicked monster of selfishness. The rest of human trades were lost, scattered and I was unable to find them. I would never be able to find them if I stuck any longer to this version of reality.

I had to escape it. Get out and leave this kind of life behind like a brutal nightmare. Escape from especially the numbness that was eating me whole. I wanted away from the world that made the worst of me come out and devour everything like a hungry beast, leaving a path of wreckage behind me. I wanted away from the all I knew, but there was no way to do it. No way that wouldn't leave me withering in pain. I had tried so many times. The pain would start so suddenly, all over, there was nothing quite like it. nothing that would make it stop except for going back.

I nodded to Malfoy standing in front of me who had been talking something in the last 30 seconds and excused myself from his company. His gaze was making me want to pick up a sharp stone and hit him with it in the face.

-

He saw the look in her eyes and was stunned. Ever since Sirius had known Dorcas Meadows she had never shown an impulsive emotion, yet her eyes flashed when she was walking down the idle, looking otherworldly and nightmarish at the same time. She paid no attention to anyone, proud indifference her signature feature. As she hid herself in a shadowy corner, he saw the dark look that she gave to her mother. The stone mask that was her face, had breached, showing him an undefined emotion. Something that was a lot like disgust as she looked upon the crowd in front of her.

The only reason he saw that look was because he was hiding in the shadow with her and she had disturbed his solitude. She hadn't seen him at all. And even though they couldn't be seen from others, two souls under the same darkness, always find each-other sooner or later. Its physics.

Sirius saw her slid further into the back shadows and it was a crazy impulse that told him to go after her and find out what she was hiding. It was the troublemaker in him that never had enough of danger, that never had a sufficient amount of information, who wanted to follow her. His guts told him he would unveil her tonight.

As he took the first step towards her, he stopped himself dead. What was he doing?! This was not just some girl he wanted to spy upon; this was freaking Meadows, the creep! He had nothing to do with her or where she went, or if she was disgusted with everything. If she was going into the night, and a hippogriff got to pest her, then so much the better…

But he was just too curious, she was behaving too strangely. Usually, girls like her used every chance they got to show themselves off. Even Bellatrix was dancing tonight, not to mention Narcissa and her parading, Melody and laugh, Angelina and her irritating posh accent, Megara and her French! They would all do everything they could to appear as much in the center of attention as it was possible.

Even if they didn't want to, they had no other chance. Sirius had heard his aunt and mother give instructions to his beautiful cousins , himself and his brother. They were to uphold the honor of their names with everything they had, be impeccable. It was a race between different families. Who displayed the most perfect possession, won the game. They were not allowed to get off the spotlight.

When his mother and hers would find them missing, there would be quite a penalty waiting for them. He was used to it, but her… he was sure that she was the most perfect daughter a pureblood could have. At least, he had been sure until a few moments ago…

As he went after the girl in the azure dress, he was wondering what it was that she was running from with such obstinacy.

He found out shortly after, when he saw her in the inner garden of the mansion, on the other side of where the party was being held. She was seated in one of the stone benches, her head lowered, her shoulders slumped, shaking, panting hard, her eyes tightly closed, as if trying to get rid of some ghastly image in her mind. The sight of her like that was something that caught him completely unprepared. He couldn't decide later what had stunned him more, the genuine pain on her face, or the thick droplets of blood down her bare arm. At first he thought someone had hurt her – though he couldn't think of anyone that would be able to do that! Then he saw her nails slid down her arm and open cuts there.

In that moment, in his brain all the little pieces clicked together. It was hard to believe, but impossible not to see the logic… or better yet, the absence of it.


	4. Chapter 4

_This chapter contains scenes of self harm, which, after one rejection, i tried to make less grafic. I do not, under any curcumstances, incourage such a behaviour, my gole was soly to mirror the character's feelings.  
At any rate, please be warned_.

**Behind the night**

Just like every day, there was a dress on her bed as she finished with her bath. It was pretty, as always: a white summer dress with spaghetti straps and frilly borders. She ran a little finger along the lace border, a smile on her face. She liked the dresses her mother chose for her, she would wear it gladly. Annette came out of the bathroom, fretting, her curls sticking out of of the tidy bun in which she usually kept them.

"Dorcas, for heaven's sake! You don't go out of the bathroom without your robe on, you wild child!" As soon as six year old girl heard her nanny's voice, she started running across the huge bedroom her little body still in the nude and squealing with glee.

"Hush! Hush child! What would happen if your mother heard you?!"

"You silly goose, mother is not even here!" Was Dorcas's response with a bubble of laughter as she crawled up on her high four poster bed before Annette could get to her and started jumping on it, punctuating every jump with a little screech, her wet hair all about her. Annette draped the soft robe on the girl like a hunter would do to trap an animal and started rubbing her dry frantically. She was such a spirited, slippery little thing; it might take an hour, immense amounts of patience and sometimes energy that the fifty year old woman didn't have, just to get her into her morning clothes. Today it was even more difficult, she was restless, wouldn't stop moving, laughing and teasing her poor nanny even more than usual. Dorcas didn't mind for the noise she was making, because nobody but her sister was home and the little devil didn't much care for Cassandra's beauty sleep.

"Your father said you ought to join him as soon as you are ready." Annette's voice came from the closet, as she picked out the silk ribbon to put in the Dorcas's hair. She chose a crisp-white one, thinking it would contrast beautifully with the child's raven hair and match the dress nicely.

"Come now, sit still so I can put this on you." For once, Dorcas stopped jumping, seated cross-legged on the middle of the bed and stood completely unmoving, as the nanny worked on her hair. She was so still that Annette started to become suspicions. She was about to ask what naughtiness had the little devil done now, when a scream of surprise made way to her lips as she realized that the bed was floating so high her head was almost touching the ceiling.

"_Dorcas_! How many times must you be told not to do this anymore! Put us down this instant!" Annette regretted saying that the moment she saw the smile on the child's lips.

"Ok." The little girls said simply and the bed fell instantly through the air, stopping only an inch before it hit the floor. Annette stopped her shriek with her hand. Dorcas didn't even bother masking her giggle. She flung herself in her terrified nanny's arms with a sweet smile on her round face.

"I can do more. Look."

"No, no no child, its enough." But as usual, Dorcas didn't listen and objects started flying around the room.

_I am too old for this_… Anette thought impulsively as the silver brush missed her ear narrowly. She couldn't deny she was fascinated by the control the little girl had over her magic, but there was only so much her unstable blood pressure could handle. There was only one way Annette knew to make the girl end these magical tantrums.

"Dorcas, there is only so much time your father can save for you and you are wasting it!" she saw the girls face fall a little and then shine again with a brilliant smile. The furniture that was flying around the room speeded dangerously to its previous place and Dorcas jumped off the bed, stretched out her clothes and checked her hair in the mirror, as if she wasn't six, but twenty-six years old.

"How do I look?" She asked, turning to her nanny.

"Like a little princess." Was the response that made the child smile and fly out of the door.

-

It was the dead of night when she felt someone shake her and whisper her name. He saw the look of fear in her wide eyes as she quickly woke, but it was over and replaced by one of confusion and worry when she recognized his face in the semidarkness. He instantly felt guilty about what he was going to do but his resolution was stronger.

"Daddy? Is something wrong?"

"No, no. Nothing is wrong, we are going to play a little game." He said as he helped her up and put a heavy cloak over her. Scared or not, fugitive or not, he was going to do at least a few things right.

"Can't we play it in the morning? I'm sleepy…" Even though she was indeed sleepy, she still stood up straight as her father fastened the cloak about her. There was a quickness in his movements, making them seem almost like spasms, and she started to feel uneasy despite what he was telling her.

"This is a game we play at night love, when nobody can see us."

Her curiosity took the better of her. "Like hide and seek?" She asked as her father scooped her up and started to walk fast towards the door.

"Yes." His voice was suddenly very deep. "Like hide and seek."

They were out in the grounds in a matter of minutes, her thin arms tightly around his neck, keeping quiet because those were the rules of the game. Once outside, she noticed her father was almost running, his grip on her getting tighter.

"Daddy… there is someone over there." She whispered in her father's ear.

"I know love. Don't be afraid, its just aunt Sybila." She was not afraid at all – she was with her father – and even if she weren't with her father and that hadn't been aunt Sybila, she had found out that she could hurt people if she wanted to. However, she felt an unknown emotion in her stomach, something that the thrill of knowing she was playing a mysterious game with her father could not overshadow anymore. Under the stars, everything seemed different from when she was in her room. It felt more real and even thought she was but a child, the strangeness of the situation started to get throught to her.

"Where are we going?" Maybe it was his anxiety playing tricks on him, but when she asked she didn't sound like a little girl at all. She sounded as if she was accusing him. Because he did feel guilty about taking her away froma life of privilege, but maybe one day, when she got older she would understand that freedom was worth every luxury.

"Somewhere safe honey. I'm taking you somewhere where you can be safe."

"But what about mother… and Cassie?" She had never thought of Cassandra as a half sister, he knew that, he had taken care for it to be that way. He doubted that his little girl even knew that fact. It didn't matter, apparently, to neither of them. In her way Cassie loved her, at least enough not to tell her that they were only half siblings and Dorcas… Dorcas loved the only way a child can love: wholly and whimsically at teh same time. It bit at his heart that she should ask for them. In his mind, he already despised the mother and ignored the her child.

"They will be just fine without us." When he heard her go silent and her tiny hands fist, he drew her back to look into her eyes that were so much like his own. The absolute trust he found there almost knocked the air out of him, a luxury he couldn't afford. He felt so guilty that had he been a weaker man, he would have started second-guessing himself. This time he spoke in whispers, to control his voice better.

"I promise you, I have only your good at heart."

"Ok..." He hugged her close and kept walking faster. It was all he could do to keep a tear from slipping out. He would do this, he had to. He would rather die than let his little girl become some monster he wouldn't recognize. He believed in many things his pureblood kind believed, but he would rather root in hell than let his child be sacrificed for those ideas. He would raise her as he had been raised and he would give her a choice when she was ready to make it.

As soon as he stepped out of the gates, they would be free to apparate. He walked right through the metal gate and hadn't even taken a breath of relief when Dorcas went rigid in his arms.

"Daddy…" She was struggling to speak and he looked at her with worry. He saw what he had never seen in her face before. Pain poured from her eyes and it seemed to him like he would drown in it. Sybila was at his side in an instant.

"What is it? Speak, what's wrong?"

"It hurts." Now she was starting to whimper and big tears poured out of her eyes. "Make it stop! I'm burning!" She was screaming now and Septimus was in panic. It only lasted a few seconds because the Sybila, as prepared as ever, stunned her out of contiousness. Septimus almost had his siter by the throat for pointing a wand in his child's direction, but he couldn't deny that there was no other way to make the pain go away. Dorcas was still shuddering in his arms.

"The bond has been forged Septimus, you can't save her now. It's too late for her." His sister's voice was coming as if from a distance. He knew it was too late, listening her say it didn't make it anymore real, didn't absolve him of his mistake. With his blindness, he had condemned her, his own child. Listening to her screams almost broke him. Knowing that it was his fault added the final straw. He had gone from a proud, arrogant man to a broken man in less than a week.

He put his daughter back into her bed, covered her with the warm blankets, brushed her corvine hair from her clammy forehead. Her hair was rich and soft like fur and straight like an arrow. Little beads of sweat had formed all over her small body but she was calm now, breathing staidly. He kissed her forehead and felt his chest being crushed so much he had to sit down and hold on to something not to get lost in that monstrous wave of grief that was menacing to pull him under.

"I will come back for you, I promise." It was more of a promise to himself than to the unconscious child before him. He was promising himself that he would come back to save the only part of himself that mattered. It was the only defense he had against all the pain for leaving her behind. He stepped out of her room like a shadow and always looking back…

…

The next morning when she woke, she was aching all over in a way that was completely new to her. She couldn't move without wincing. The whole event of the night before came to her like a dream, lost in the middle of the pain she had felt. That part she remembered well. It glared red in the middle of all the confused dark colors of the night. She wanted to ask about everything that had happened and why but something deep in her stomach stopped her. A hole that was forming there that she had never left before. It left an ugly taste in her mouth that combined with the aching of her little body was too much for her to take. She started crying, large tears rolling down her cheeks without even knowing why, but feeling whatever was heavy thing that was on her chest that day lighten with every tear and sob. However the feeling in her stomach wouldn't go away. It made her cry harder, her mind always on her father. She didn't understand where all those tears were coming for, they scared her but she kept crying because she couldn't stop.

"Oh, my goodness... What is it love?" Annette dropped the dress robes she was pulling out of the closet and was by the girl's side in a second, hugging her close, whipping the tears and rubbing her back to comfort her but her sobs only got more violent, so much that they started carrying through the nanny's body. She had never seen a child cry that way, with so much pain it hurt to see; it was scaring her, a bad feeling starting to press against the womans chest as if whatever Dorcas had inside was contagious.

"Dorcas, my love, what is wrong? Tell Anny. Tell me, baby." She begged, but the girl she had tended to from when she was a little bundle of pink flesh and blankets didn't speak, just cried harder. It was almost an hour before she calmed enough to take her for a hot bath. Annette put extra Chamomile essence in the water, to soother whatever could be pressing into a six-year-old girl that had everything a child's imagination could create. Dorcas never looked at Annette in the eye, she just put her head back and sat there unmoving as her nanny rubbed her body with the familiar soft fur. Looking at her face, Annette thought that the child look much too pensive, too wrapped up in her own world. More so than a little girl could ever be...

When she got out of the bath, Dorcas stood unmoving, her eyes distant, as Annette put the bathrobe on her. She said nothing as she walked into the room but abruptly stopped by the bed. She stared at the dress on it, taken out according to madame Meadows's orders, the little girl's mother. It was fancier than usual and Dorcas remembered about the breakfast she had to attend with mother's friends from one of her clubs. She didn't know what was different in her, didn't understand that wrenching sense of loss that had made her so weak she could barely stand up, but as she processed that thought, she felt something in her tick. She bypassed the bed, went into the closet and came back soon enough, with a new dress on her hands under the unbelieving eyes of her nanny.

"Dorcas dear… why don't you try the one your mother chose for you. It's so pretty."

"I like this one better." The nanny swallowed hard, her moth suddenly dry at the way the little girl spoke.

"But this has the sewed flowers you love so much. And the ribbon!"

"Thank you Anny... but I like this one better."

Dorcas dressed herself that day. To Annette it seemed like she didn't want anyone to touch that dress she was putting on. It was pale blue, made to fit her perfectly and make her look like a flower. Her father had goten in to the child for one occasion or other, or at least Annether thought so. it was hard to keep track of the clothes in the child's closet. A week later, when Dorcas would start putting away some of her clothes in a separate part of the closet, never wanting her nanny or anyone but herself to touch any of them, Annette would understand the reason behing this behaviour, but in that moment she did not. And Madame would not like the child's newfound desire to dress herself. Annette didn't yet know how that was going to influence her job, but as she looked at the rigid face of her little girl, she didn't much care for that. This day had been singular, in all six years of that child's life. What Annette didn't know was that it was the first of many to come, some even worse. But the nanny would not be there to see the worst. It would hurt her feelings when, much later - at age 11, it would be Dorcas herself to send Annette home.

As for the silent promise her father had made her, the one only her heart had heard, it was a promise he took to his grave, only seven days after he made it.

-

I was safely away from the party now, sorrounded by semidarkness in the garden on the other side of the great building that was my house. I tried to breathe and calm down that foreign animal in me. Being in a crowd with these people always gave me the need to stop breathing the same air. I increased the force of my nails in my shoulder and felt the pain as they dug deeper in my flesh, the skin there crying red drops. I just wanted to feel this, really feel it, so the physical pain would take my mind off that small nod in my chest that was in risk of making me blow up like a bloody balloon. I needed teh distraction, I needed teh endorphine. It seemed that every feeling in me concentrated in my chest and then heaved on my ribs, trying to break them and free themselves.

I had resisted the urge to hurt myself for a long time, trying to prove that I was stronger, but in the end, like everything else I had ever tried that mattered to me, I had failed. I was too much of a slave of the relief that it brought, of the addiction that it created.

I had to stop the animalistic urge to conjure the most powerful exploding spell I knew and blow the whole place up, along with my self. I needed to distract myself from the unbearable desire to walk into the puddle in front of me and breathe in all the water I could, until me lungs exploded from it. I longed for that peace I had only read about, when everything would be quiet and I would be free of this flat line that was my existence.

Oh great, now I'm being melodramatic… Disgusting.

But no matter how much I scorned at myself, I knew I couldn't get rid of that longing to be out of this ridiculous dress, snuggle in my bed and sleep this night off. And the next morning get back to Hogwarts and have a nice, long and very hot bath to wash myself of the very air that contaminated me here.

I couldn't handle all this. I couldn't handle all these feelings. I was not used to having them at all. Maybe this was the real reason why I was a mask and not a real person. Pretending to be someone else made it easy not to have to deal with reality. But coming here, being with these people, always waked me up rather rudely. When facing them, when facing my mother of all people, reminded me of everythgn i did not want to be. And I still tried so hard to fit in... i didnt understand this reaction, but i hated that i was like her just as much as I hated her and myself for it.

And then that feeling of loss would come again. Like father had died all over again, like I had died.

Truly, I was indeed dying… and I was doing nothing to stop it.

A scream made its way in my throat, but I blocked it there. I had taught myself never to get hurt, only angry. So I turned my anger in a secure direction. I turned up my left forearm and stared at teh skin there. There was not one single blemish or marring... at least not now. But i knew better. The person that had invented the Bonding Seal I was submitted to from birth should be glad to have met his death before I was able to tear life from his body. I would have been very slow and cruel if I had ever met him. Because escaping from this house, this life, could have saved me, I knew it. Knew that I had to get away to be free of it, even thought I didn't know how to do it. My father had thought so and I thought so too… but the fire that burned on my skin when I tried to leave was unlike anything.

I was a prisoner, locked in my home, and even worse, in my own head too. I shook my head in order to clear it from these thoughts, but the only thind it did was bring tears and make them fall over my cheeks. For once, I let them fall.

"You know, for the longest time I thought you were just like them." I shuddered, surprised that I was not alone. The voice was deep and it was coming from the statue on my right. It was the first time I felt something when I heard it. I felt too vulnerable to deal with him, my defenses were all down, and my soul was bare in that moment. I couldn't even smooth my face of my emotions… so I tried to get out of the way. He must have been prepared because he reached so fast I didn't even see and grabbed my forearm. He had been closer than I had thought.

"But now I realized that you are far worse." His bigger frame over me was starting to bring back some unwanted memories and for his sake, he'd better let me go before I really turned on him.

"I finally understand you Meadows, it wasnt very hard once you stopped pretending. You hate everyone and everything just because you are too much of a coward to point the finger at yourself. You're so afraid it's pathetic!"

For the first time in the 5 years I had know him I looked into his eyes, really _looked _into his eyes and let myself look surprised at his words. No-one, and I mean no-one, had seen through me before. Not even me! I was bewildered, didn't know what to say… But my surprise ended fast as I pulled out of his grip and pointed my wand at his throat all in one fluid movement, poking at his flesh. He gulped but didn't move. When I spoke, I did so slowly, with a calmness that lacked lucidity.

"Who do you think you are to judge me? To presume about me, like you have any fucking idea what you are talking about. Get a life Black, you conceited son of a bitch, and stop projecting yourself in other people just because you can't handle your own reality."

"At least I'm not hypocritical enough to try and fit into this life, these insane ideas they want to instill in us. Not when my every sense says that it's the most arrogant concept a sick mind can create!" he looked into my eyes and he was so sure of himself. He was surer when he spoke than I had been for the better part of my life. It made me so angry I almost send a Crucio on him. I was back to my normal self now. Anger did that to me, it eased my transition, made me more aggressive, therefore increasing my survival instincts. In time it had become my only guarantee of endurance, so I clung to it furiously, regognising it for the lifebelt that it was.

"It is not a sign or arrogance of the king to rule Black. That is what he is there for!" I was in full control of myself, every telltale sigh wiped clean off my eyes and face, my body strait, a perfect posture in hold.

"You want to believe that, but you don't. I can see it in your eyes… or at leas I could, 5 minutes ago." His smirk of victory made me almost growl, but I didn't. I was above that… and I had better ways of bringing my revenge to him. He forgot that we came from the same filthy world. I knew what would bring him trouble, so I made 2 steps back and not uttering anything I turned my back on him walked away. I bet he didn't see the hex flying to him. It was not meant to be felt, I had taken care of that. I had invented this spell to have some fun with my foolish sister, but now it seemed like a good time to experiment with its effects.

"You can think whatever pleases your imagination, but if I were you, I'd keep my mouth shut tonight." As I felt his eyes on my back, I smirked, waiting for the moment he would disgrace himself. I wondered if he would know it was me. Of course he would know, he always seemed to know.


	5. Chapter 5

**Irony **

If Sirius had first wondered what she had meant by her last words, he didn't need to do so now. It seemed like every word that came out of his mouth was just like he thought it. He couldn't censure his words, his replies so straitforeword he made his mother's eyes bulge with embarrassment and anger.

"Disgrace, abomination! Rotten fruit of my womb, demon! The most unclean of us all, the most unworthy! Blood traitor, shame of my flesh! You befoul the house of my fathers!"

Her voice kept ringing thought the house as the insults were getting more colorful than usual. The house of Black had been the laughing stock of the evening. He didn't know whether to laugh or start worrying about the consequences. So he remembered a promise made by his best friend one night much like this one and there were no doubts in his mind. No shade of uncertainty or confusion. He had known who he was since he was 11 and he would stay true to it. In the back of his mind, he wondered why she couldn't do the same.

Before either of his parents got the chance to lash at his latest abomination, he grabbed his few possessions and threw them into his truck, reduced its size, blew up the window and flew out of it.

When the curfew broke, he could hear the cream of his mother's voice in his head, but he paid no attention to it or the invisible hand that was trying to throttle him, making his eyes and throat burn. He concentrated in flying fast and the feel of the wind… and nothing else.

-

"He was thrown out of his house. His mother was furious."

"Regulus didn't want to talk about it, but he did say that his face was burned from the tree."

"I knew it. That filthy mudblood lover. His time will come too!"

I tried to ignore the voiced but the boom of Nott's thunder was more than I could take. I glared at him from my seat in front of the fire, and he quieted immediately. Everyone knew somehow that I disliked loud noises.

So Black had been kicked out because of me… I felt angry every time I thought about it that way. Why did he get to be sent away when my mother did everything in her power to keep me there? Why was he free, when I was trapped? Why? He was not better than I was! I deserved it too! I had fought for it, hurt for it, yet that destiny seemed to elude me.

There were some giggles around me and I slapped the thick book shut, making the fourth years there jump and look scared. I ignored them and made my way out of the common room. I would head to the library; at least it would be quiet there. Some nice private corner, maybe the restricted section… I had found a good book there last time, about the misuses of the Deltona bulbs. Maybe it would be the right time for Evans to lose all her colorful hair… that would sure sting her pride!

As I entered the big room, the quiet there and the sight of books, their smell, immediately soothed me. I wasn't particularly fond of the library, but i loved the way it smelled there, and the quiet it provided. I walked down some idles, reaching the one I wanted and putting a few books back. I hadn't asked for the librarian permission when I took them, it was only natural for me not to do so when I put them back.

As I walked to the farthest corner of the library, with a new book in my hands, I heard some voices from my right. I recognized one of them clearly, and I assumed who the others would be. I stopped, curiosity getting the better of me. Black was telling about his escape. Evans was there too.

"… But everyone has been saying you were kicked out!"

"Evans, come on, of course that's what everyone has been saying. Mother probably told little Reggie to spread the news." Black was surely joking! He was such a liar, I felt my anger boil again.

"Purebloods don't get kicked out just like that Lily. It just doesn't happen." James's voice was without any trace of emotion.

Bullshit! It was more likely for him to have been kicked out than for him to have run away, as Potter and Black were suggesting. I bet he was just trying to appear heroic in front of everyone. Such a hypocrite!

"So you ran off? And you live with James now?"

"Yeah."

"They're going to tear the house apart, just wait and see." Pettigrew said, his laugh barely audible in his voice and Evans chuckled. I saw Black give a look to Lupin, and his expression changed, like they had said something to each other. I couldn't see Lupin's face, he had his back on me.

"We should stop talking about it though. This is not a private conversation anymore… is it Meadows?" I was a little surprised, but still came out of where I was hiding. Everyone's eyes were on me. I was a little shaken by the anger his lies provoked in me, but I was still pretty much collected.

"It never was Black. Everyone is talking about it so much my ears are hurting. Congratulations, you're the first of us to actually be kicked out in more than two hundred years." I saw Black smile as If I had said something particularly funny.

"I guess I have you to thank you for everything." His smile got wider and his friend looked at him with surprise. He hadn't told them!

"For making your life harder? My pleasure entirely." I smirked at him and saw the way everyone's eyes sharpened. We were back in the old drill.

"In fact, you just gave me the push I needed." How dare he still lie like that? To me, of all people! I knew how this worked, I knew how the minds of his parents worked! And he was lieing to hie so called friends too! If I had the smallest concept of how friendship should be, I knew that in theory, one was not supposed to lie to his friends.

"So, you still insist that you ran away?" My voice must have sounded weird, because I saw them tense at its sound. Only Black remained laid back and still smiling. It affronted me, the way he thought he didn't need to fear me.

"I'm not insisting on anything. It's the truth."

I had been able for a long time now, to tell a truth from a lie. It was one of the – I must admit - few things that I liked about myself. I was very good in reading peoples thoughts, because people were too careless with them. Even thought I succeed in reading Black's too, I fount barriers in his mind. After all, he was raised a Black, he wasn't like everyone else. We were always taught how to be good liars. It was important if you wanted to survive in our world.

What stunned me was that he was indeed not lying. It was the truth. He had escaped his home, his family. He was truly free from it all and he'd done it himself. The possibility seemed so far, yet he was right there in front of me, smiling like a god damned fool. I was unable to think for a moment, I just stared at his face and let him read the surprise in mine. I didn't mean to whisper, but I did.

"I don't believe you."

"Then don't." I just stood there, trying to bring myself to leave, but I couldn't. That animalistic urge was building in me again, the need to hurt someone, something… I just had to cause some pain to mirror my own, I had the _right _to! I couldn't be the only one in the room suffering! It was unfair, as it was unfair the fact that he should have everything I longed for. He was unworthy of such a gift as freedom; he couldn't appreciate it as I would!

"Face it Black, rather you ran away or not is not the point. You were a disappointment to what you were meant to be, and you know it. And the fact that you think it wasn't the life for you, that you chose differently, doesn't make it any less painful… does it?"

For the first time since I had met his gaze today, his confidence seemed to falter, as did his grin and the shadow in his eyes proved me right. I smirked with malice, as I saw my own pain reflected in his stormy orbs. It was natural for me to want to hurt him. He was too much like me… It was sick of me, I knew… but I still couldn't help it…

I turned to leave, bathed in what was supposed to be my victory.

"Let me ask you something..." he wouldn't give up would he. I couldn't just ignore him either, because I wanted to know what he would say. My contradicting sides were starting to get on my nerves!

"If you hate her so much, why try so hard to be just like her?" I was with my back turned and he couldn't see my face. If he had, it would have been all too revealing. I was stunned into silence by this un-understandable question that made no sense to anyone, apart from me… and him too apparently… I wanted to dig my fingernails in his eyes and pop his eyeballs out so badly my fingertips itched!

But instead I kept cool and turned to answer him.

"Because Black, you need me to be vile and evil. I'm doing exactly what you want me to, even if you're hypocritical enough to lie to yourself and deny it. I'm giving you precisely what you beg for, when you look at me with hatred." He looked confused. He didn't understand.

"That's not true. You are just trying to justify your actions by blaming them on someone else." How blissfully ignorant he was! Even from his own actions and their real meaning.

"Your argument contradicts itself Black. If I were as evil as you presume to to be, I wouldnt need to justify myself. Just face it: People like you need people like me so that you can feel better about you mediocre life, Black. You need me to be the villain, so that you can be the good guy. To see me as the reincarnation of all evil is the only truth your brain can accept."

I wasn't finished yet. I looked at Lupin, feeling my face contort with the sly smirk on it. The best way to hurt Black was by hurting others around him. Let's make the fantastic four writhe with doubt a little…

"Oh, Lupin, I heard that your Huffelpuff girlfriend loves walks in the moonlight… Its full moon tonigh, maybe you should take her out tonight! A _mouthful _of romance is just what she need now, don't you agree?" He paled so much I thought he would actually faint right there and the others did considerably too. Only Evans seemed to be the unfazed one. She was looking at both sides, not understanding what was going on. Maybe I should enlighten her… or maybe I should leave her to find out on her own. She was a smart girl, she would find out herself. Besides, the wait would be more devastating for their nerves.

I turned away and walked from their sight. The satisfaction for having snarled at them was inexistent compared to the urgency I had to get out of that place.


	6. Chapter 6

**Marked... in a different way**

I really tried to hide my feelings from myself, but it wasn't easy… in fact it was impossible. I didn't speak to anyone in the few days that passed from my meeting in the library with the Gryffindors. I had been trapped in a viscous circle since then. How had he managed to break run away from his house? How did he break the Seal? It was impossible to break, but he had done it since he was now out of his parents reach. Out of the house he grew up in. _How _had he done it?

In all the ways I considered, none of them sounded plausible. I had tried to escape it a few times. Every time I crossed the lines of the property of my house with the intention of leaving it and not coming back, The Seal would burn and vicious pain would come. I had thought this would be the way until I came off age, but I had no way of knowing until 17. So in hope, I had been postponing my life, trying to mold myself into the life i had now the best way i could. I didnt reasent the world because it was bad or wrong, but because it kept me trapped in itself. That was what i hated, what i rebelled against. I had had no way of fighting back, with the growing of my strength as a witch, grew the strength of the Seal. I found myself avoiding thought of hate and disrespect, fearing the pain that would come as a punishment… at the time I thought I deserved it, for having such rebellious thoughts.

That is until I stopped caring about trivial things and started to see the big picture, or at least a fragment of it. What it took was really Black proving me that there were people that were apparently better than i was, that tried harder and that what i thougth mipossible was indeed possible. He had escaped. i didn't have to wait until I was 17. it could be done. I dont know why the knolege weakened me so. Maybe it was the realisation that I had been chasing a ghost for so long… I was tired and angry. Tired of waiting for this to just go away. Angry because I was too scared to fight for myself… However, one can lie to himself only to a definite point. After that, no matter how much of a coward you are, survival instinct takes over.

I looked across the hall and there he was, talking to Lupin and Pettigrew. I walked strait up to him, my hands on my sides, without my cloak, to show them that I had no intention of attacking anyone. They didn't get the sign though… their wands were out of their pockets hanging on their sides before I got close enough to speak. I was tense and felt defenseless, but knew they wouldn't attack first. And there would be no need to beat around the bush either. I had made my decision.

"How did you do it?" I was looking at Black strait in the eyes and he was too. Lupin and Pettigrew frowned. I was close enough to touch either of them if I reached out, but of course, I didn't. Black didn't bulge for a moment.

"Do what?" was he thick or something? What else would I need to know from him?!

"How did you get away Black? How did you do it?" I was angry now. Was he really going to make me say it? Was he really that cruel… well I guess I had no right to ask for their good manners, I had done nothing to deserve them.

"I just walked out the door Meadows. How else? Well, actually, I used the window. Much more picturesque." He half smirked at me, and I felt my blood boil in my veins. My fingers were itching again… I glared and my voice came like the hiss throught my teeth.

"Don't lie to me. How did you break the Seal? What the enchantment did you use? Tell me!" I hoped he didn't realize the slight note of hysteria in my voice. He raised his eyebrows and looked at me as if I were stupid. God, why did this have to be so difficult? Did I really have to give up my dignity to get my freedom? As I put it that way, I scolded at myself. There was no reason to even think about it. My freedom was worth much more than this misplaced pride I had. I breathed deep.

"I'm asking for your help… no tricks behind it. I'm asking for… just…just tell me... please? Please Sirius!" I was almost out of breath, not for the too much talking, but because I had not said 'please' in a long, long time and actually mean it.

Apparently, the boys didn't believe me. I could almost feel the doubt radiating from Lupin, and Pettigrew was restless on my right. Black however seemed much too stunned to even blink. I could understand why… yet, there was no sign of arrogance in his face as he looked at me. Only confusion. I didn't know him well, but I knew that he was not cruel… I could recognize a cruel person with my eyes closed. Like they say, it takes one to know one, right?

"I don't know what you're talking about, Meadows. What Seal?" My breathing quickened as I looked at him, now in fury. I had myself laid all but bare at him, and he made fun of me! I turned to leave, maybe run from them, as I felt an unfamiliar prickle in my eyes, but he grabbed my arm.

"Seriously, I don't know what you're talking about! I'm not trying to be a smart ass!" I didn't know what to do. It was all so foreign for me, i didnt know how to react to sincerity. I didnt know what i felt like to be helpless and have people know it. This was all way to new to be comfortable...

"Is something wrong here?" that booming voice could belong to no one but Nott. It made me shiver in surprise. I almost forgot that we were in the middle of the corridor and even though it was nearly empty, the fact that three Gryffindors and a Slytherin were talking so close was not something to be overlooked. Especially when the Slytherin was me and Black was still holding on to my forearm tightly. I turned to Nott to see him towering above me as usual, his Prefect badge in plain sight.

"Leave."

"What?!" God, he was so loud!

"I do not like repeating myself Nott. Now!" He looked at me like the fool he was and then his look turned to a semi glare. He was trying to figure out how to get back at me, but didn't have the guts to try. I would kill him in a duel and not be sorry at all, he knew that well. So he turned and left, murmuring strange things under his breath.

Then I turned to the other three, they were there and they were staring. I didn't like being stared at.

"How about we take this somewhere more private?" I turned my eyes to Black, to see that he was a little surprised at my suggestion. Lupin looked affronted and anger coursed through his face. I was prepared for that, mentally prepared to give up everything I had to get what I wanted. And what I wanted was being my self's owner.

"I don't think that's going to happen Meadows." Lupin said throught tight lips.

"I'm not planning on killing him inside the castle walls, Lupin! I have plenty of opportunities for that outside!" Black almost chuckled at his, but Lupin glared. He could tell apparently that I meant a part of it. If that boy kept play with my patience, I would do some serious damage! Black kept looking at me and I felt my temper rise again.

"Look, I have no wand with me and no other weapons I can use. I'm not going to attack you, I want answers, and you are the only one that can give them to me." He was not going to do it. It was in his eyes, the doubt and the calculating look on his face. He was considering whether he should trust me or send me to hell, much like I was considering him. Lupin was frozen on his side, and Pettigrew looked like he was about to snap at something as he watched his friends and me in turns.

I was about to turn away and leave when Black stopped me.

"Well, where are you planning to go?"

"Sirius?" Lupin didn't agree to this apparently, but I didn't need him to. Black gave him a cryptic look, and it seemed to put him to another mode, like they exchanged some secret message I didn't get.

"You pick the place; it will make your cronies calmer, maybe then they will stop whining." Lupin growled and Pettigrew tensed and became red, but they both left and I was walking to the library, right on Sirius Black's side. We went inside the Restricted Section and closed both doors. He did a perception spell. Nobody was there, so I could speak as freely as I could considering that I talking to a Black.

"Tell me the truth, how did you get out. Didn't you… feel anything?"

"What was I supposed to feel?" He was suddenly guarded, like the topic was touchy for him. It should be, it was for me too… I sighed, trying to find a way to communicate with him in a civilized way, as so to convince him to tell me his secret. He seemed not to know what he had done, but if he explained the occurring, then maybe I could figure out myself what had broken the spell.

"Well, don't you remember anything strange? Anything out of place about the whole thing. Before you jumped out the window."

"I made up my mind and decided that there was nothing left for me there. What do you think it takes? You are the only thing getting in your way, Meadows. You are making this way more difficult than it is." He seemed angry, but so was I. He was trivializing the major cause of my struggling and I didn't like it one bit.

"You don't know what you're talking about Black. You Gryffindors are supposed to be helpful and, aren't you? Yet, you alone are more ruled by prejudice than all the Slytherins put together. There _is _something stoppig me, and its not just in my head!"

He wanted to ignore me, but I saw that I had gotten to him. He relaxed again and looked at me in the eyes. The dim light in this part of the library was making the whole situation appear more threatening than needed to be. Somewhere, something cracked, and I looked on the far end of the corridor, but saw nothing. Yet I felt uncomfortable. I was without protection and in a dark corner. Though the lack of light didn't bother me, the fact that there was little I could do to defend myself was making me want to have taken at least a knife with me. The little switchblade I had in my left pocket would do just fine though, if he tried anything.

"What was that Seal you were talking about. Maybe your mother put an enchantment on the house. On mine there was a particular curfew…"

"The enchantment is not on the house, Black." I sighed wearily and searched balance in the wall behind me. My legs wouldn't hold me up anymore. Black seemed to be waiting for my move. So I unbuttoned one sleeve of my shirt, rolling it upwards slowly. I had never shown this to anyone on my free will before. I was, for the first time in a long time, very afraid of what would happen. But also I was tired of pretending. I scratched the back of my forarm enought to draw a little blood. I had learned that this was a very eficiant way to make the Seal show.

"The enchantment… is on me." I turned my left wrist to his eyes and saw them narrow at first, trying to better see the mark on my forearm in the dimly lightened corner, and then widen like he was all of a sudden too aware of it. When they came on my face, they were full of fear … and then anger. That mark seemed to have a meaning to him and this made ma glad that I would find some meaning into it as well except the abhorrence I had for it. But on the other hand, the way Black was looking at me suggested nothing good. I felt my eyebrows come together and my insides lurch.

"Wha…?"

I didn't have the chance to finish because four wands were pointed at my throat and heart.


	7. Chapter 7

**The truth that sets you free**

Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew had materialized out of nowhere and along with Black, they were holding their wands at me. I cant deny that I was very surprised at first and my heart seemed to pick up speed at the new turn of events, but it soon stabilized and I looked at Black with resentment.

"Should I have pointed out that the meaning of private is 'Belonging _to, or concerning, _one _individual person'_?" At my voice his wand dug into the skin of my throat painfully, as mine had dug into his some time ago at the wedding.

Déjà vu.

"Don't play with me. Who are you? What is the meaning of that on your forearm?" He had never gotten like this, except for when I hurt that Hufflepuff during potions. They had such a look of disgust in their eyes, I truly considered if this would be my end, on the dusty floor of the restricted section. But i knew they wouldn't kill me. Black might, but Potter would never allow it. They we school boys, not killers.

"I was hoping you could tell me." I said calmly.

"For how long have you had it?" Potter was the epitome of stern as he looked at me. And sudenly I wasnt so sure about my schoolboys theory. They weren't looking at me the way they usually did. I could see the fear dwelling behind their resolution. Potter had never before looked at me with fear...

"For as long as I can remember." They didn't believe me, I saw it. I had to find my escape from this corner my stupid hopes had led me to. But there was none, unless I hurt one of them badly enough to distract the others. And if I did that, I may never know the meaning of the black mark on my skin. They seemed to know, and I would get it out of them.

"You look pretty shaken Black. I thought you didn't know what the Seal was!"

"That is no fucking seal Meadows, and you know it. Stop playing dumb with me." Black looked in my eyes and I looked back, both my arms rigid at my sides and my hands flat against the wall behind my back.

"What is then, pray enlighten me." My sarcasm looked misplaced since there were four men in front of me looking ready to end me in one way or another.

"Peter, go call Dumbledore, tell him it's an emergency." Lupin's voice was harsher then I had ever heard it and it sounded out of place with his always so gentle looks. But now there was no trace of that on him now.

"Why are you so afraid?" I whispered and as a flash ran through his eyes, Lupin glared at me, hatred giving him a monstrous look. It made me nervous.

"I don't fear you. I loathe you." His tone was severe and the still sparkling eyes backed the truth in his words, but I couldn't help but chuckle. The sound was terribly sinister in the dark.

"Get in line, Lupin!"

"That was a fantastic act though, Meadows. I almost fell for it."

Everything was getting confusing, but it didn't matter anymore. They were obviously under some impression that would not go away no matter what I said to them. So I decided to say nothing more. Taking a deep breath, I relaxed my muscles and then tensed them again.

Lupin was werewolf, I had no chance of forcing anything on him, he would be too physically strong for me, and Potter was a seeker, it would be difficult to catch him off guard. Black was taller then the former two, but he was the one I could handle, in this case.

The attack would have to be as fast as it could be.

I grabbed Black's wrist and twisted it, the smacking noise of his bones cracking echoing one second before his scream of pain. I pulled him to me forcibly, but I knew that I wouldnt move him much, so I sort of jumped and threw myself at his back, using him as a protective shield from his friends spells at the same time as I got the four inch blade out of my skirt's pocket and putting it right on his carotid artery. If I cut him there he would die in a matter of instants and by the way he and his friends froze, they seemed to know… or maybe they were just scared of a blade on their best friend's throat, put there by a girl they considered insane and dangerous .

Black's pulse was fast under my fingers, yet his breathing wasnt too choppy.

"Put your wands down." They didn't move so I dug the sharp blade into Black's skin and a drop of blood came out. I was careful not to cut him too deep thought, but he winced and made the cut a little deeper than I had meant it to be.

"I said - put the wands – _down_!" My voice was low and lethal, and they did as I told them to. Then they pushed them in my direction and I kicked them away from the grip of either of us.

"Now you need to listen very carefully. One false move and wonderboy here might get seriously hurt." I looked at them and considered running for it or not. After careful consideration, I realized there was no escape for me this time. This was my last card and I would play it carefully."What is the meaning of this thing on my arm?"

"Why do you insist on this? You should know better than anyone what it is; you are the one wearing it."

"Answer the question Potter!"

"What you have on your skin is the Dark Mark. The sign that you, Death Eater, belong to your master, the Dark Lord!" Lupin said, looking strait at me with a hate filled glare.

I froze. My brain was blocked, refusing to process the words I had just heard from his lips. I was so stunned that I actually loosen my grip on Black. He didn't wait a second and grabbed my wrist, twisting it to an impossible angle, repayign me in kind for what i did to his wrist. The sting and the faint crack barely registered. Something hit me in the chest… or did my chest hit something … I was not sure. My jaw clammed so hard on my upper teeth that I saw starts for a moent. I wasn't even sure why I wasn't breathing but the exercise seemed too hard to master.

I found that my cheek had somehow found the cool surface of the stone wall… or was it the floor? Something very heavy had trapped my legs and my arms and something was on my back, holding me down… someone's knee probably… I couldn't move but I wouldn't have even if Black wouldn't have been trapping me. The voices were like from another dimension. Nothing could make it through my brain, everything just kept skimming it as if my freaquency trasmiter had broken. Everything slipped except the words that were ringing in my ears…

Dark Mark… Dark Lord… Death Eater…

Dark Mark… Dark Lord… Death Eater…

Me! Me! ME! All along, that was me!

Then my brain started doing some more work and another question was forming in my head…

How? How had this happened? I had never met the Dark Lord, never been aproached to meet him even thougth i knew plenty of his Death Eaters. And in that fuzzy moment, it made sense that they never once showed off their mark in my eyes. I would have regognised it had i asked. Had i been a little smarter. A bit more aware...

Ah, but it was all too easy. The mark, the curse, the curfew, me not being able to leave my home, it was all connected. All that training, the dark asts practice, the punishments, the subdued refferences to a greater destiny, to servitude. My mother telling me I was meant for greater things, that my destiny had been written for me before i was even born. It was all one spiter-thread that connected everything that had taken place in my life within these sixteen years and that I had not been eble to put toghether. I couldnt really comprehend it now either. Couldn't wrap my head around it. I just sort of listed all these events in my head, regognised the connection and called myself the stupidest human form that ever lived. Realization of the scheme was enought to knock the breath out of me... and in that moment, something in me broke, i felt i, and it had nothing to do with the fact that Black had just broken my wrist. It was a different kindof pain that overshadowed any physical hurts i might be enduring at the moment.

I couldn't breathe. My lungs were closed and I couldn't draw air into them. Then I started to pant and convulse, the dust going into my mouth, making it even harder to draw oxigen. I was going to throw up any moment now… and I did, choking on it. The grip on me suddenly loosened and I was with my face up again, but could see nothing but a blur of colors and a silvery shine somewhere. I was shaking and my chest hurt, my throat and nostrils burned. The horrid stench around me was making me want to throw up again. I did, but this time someone held be, so I wouldn't choke on it once more.

There were strange noises coming from around me, rustling and heavy steps. Then I felt the need to expulse all I had been holding in me for so long. All the throwing up on the floor wasn't enough to clean me. I felt dirtier than I ever had. This was when I realized that the strange noise was me, crying wildly. It was my sobs I was hearing, but I didn't know how this kind of agony sounded. I had never let it out before, convinced that it would cripple me if I did. I hadnt known how to cry, believing that there was no reason to anyway. But in that moment, so out of my own mind, i held nothing back. I felt completely useless, broken, stupid. I felt that everything that could possibly be wrong in a human being were wrong with me and there was no way to make it better. I had no more pride left to hide my sobs... not to mention that doing so would require energy i didnt have.

Voices were calling my name. They sounded too far away, and honestly, I didn't care. I felt that animal need to hurt myself again, I needed pain to escape this thing that was tearing me apart. The scream was feral and it scrapped the inside walls of my throat. I screamed again and again and again… it wasn't enough… I screamed and cried myself into darkness.

-

The next day I woke surrounded by white walls and light and warmth. So strange falling in the dark and waking up in the light… It all came back, but I had no strength to be angry. It seemed like my resolve, malice, pride, stubbornness… my everything had leaked out of me, on that cold floor in the restricted section. But apparently, I had held back tears for so long that they seemed to need no cause to come out now. They didn't need my permission anymore. So I cried, I cried and felt emptier…

-

The white vase of flowers smashed on the floor, followed by some other things that could be broken. I was in my paper-dress, looking at the distorted image of the woman that brought me in this world only so that i could be marked upon birth to serve, upon my will or otherwise, to the man that was to rule the world. She held nothing for me in her eyes as she told me how I had been predicted to become a ball of power, and how she had given me to him, to win his good graces…

She told me how It had been said. Told me that I would be born with a sister from a different mother and that our twin destiny would be to turn into the most loyal and obedient servants of a man that would arise to keep the honor of the purebloods alive. But it had also been said than one of us would stray if not rightly taught how and why to uphold the rules of her world, thus becoming a mortal enemy to everything she was born into.

She told me how the elders of our family had been intrigued by this and were also cautious of the second possibility… so they had taken precautions, believing themselves more powerful than destiny. Having the arrogance of believing that they could control it all.

So I and this sister I was not revealed the identity of, were branded with the smear of an ancient evil. The mark of Slytherin himself darkened my skin, the mark that the Dark Lord had revived to represent himself with. I didn't need a prophecy to realize who it was that would turn against her destiny though. I was already angry enought to tear teh entrie world apart. Even if I id it to spite my mother, if onyl just for that, I would never fall servant to anyone. I would do it just so that i could destroy what she wanted to uphold, just so that i could see her world going into pieces and laught in her face when it happened.

The black ink on my skin was more than just the Dark Mark of a dangerous wizard. It was there to control me, to make me obey and to keep me tied to the world I was born into. To take my allegiance forcefully through denying me every other source I could devote myself to, consequently leaving me all alone. That mark was that little voice that whispered to me to wait and let life take its toll by itself.

_Wait, wait and it will be all right, just be what they want you to be and it will be fine…  
_  
And by being alone, I wouldn't be much of a threat… and I would be very helpful… for whatever it was that He would want me to be…

My fingers didn't delay to wind around her neck. She could do nothing to stop me. As I watched her unfeeling face, I realized the only thing I, the real me, the one confined by that spell, had been chasing for all this time - it was _her_. I had been after that person I was now holding by the throat. Or my idea of her, of how she should have been, of who she could have been to me. The only thing I had truly wanted was impossible to have. It was not my freedom I hunted for, since I didn't know the extent of which it had been lost. No, it was a reason to be held captive. A reason in which to believe and devote, but I had never been given one. That was what my mind had been reaching out to, begging to have. She never gave me a reason.

Instead I was given orders and view of what others thought of the world around me. Empty words I refused to process - to much pride had had its uses after all. I wanted to understand, I asked _why_ and _how_ and never took anything for granted. The lack of rational answers left me unsatisfied and angry with them for trying to make me do things. This anger had been the greatest gift bestowed on me. It had enabled me to think for myself, unfazed by what all that others told me. That had been how I came to notice the lack of logic in this world I was born. The lack of rational thinking when my mother and all around her talked ill of my dead father. It was anger at them for making me want to refuse him that made me refuse them instead.

That had been the moment when anger had been born I realization had given me a new motivation to fight and made my anger my ally, so I wasn't alone at all. I'd been angry at my father too, for leaving me. I still was. In any way imaginable, i had loved both my parents and had lost them both. One to death, the other... had been simply lost. I still didnt know how, when or to what. Maybe she was something i was never mean to have. I had been chasing her, her world, her views, loving and hating her at the same time, needing to be loved by the one person that refused ardently to do so. But no-one can have what is not there to be given. It was the one thing that, in my infancy, could have made a difference. Had she showed me a place to belong I would have done anything for anyone she wanted. I would have been the Death Eater that i was prediced to be, if Id thougt i had a reason behind it. But she had no love to give me; I had been chasing a ghost.

That is why that mark had had such power over me. Because I had let myself be ruled by my hope that one day I would have what I wanted: a reason that made sense. I had believed that there was something to stay for, and that thought, even thought unconsciously, had held me captive in a life I hated.

But not anymore. It is right what they say… Truth shall set you free… In that moment, as all realisation dawned, along with all its consequences, I felt that I was the owner of this body i inhabited for the very firs time. There was no falso hope, no delusion any more to keep me going. I was out of the maze, stopped seeing the world throught her eyes and opened mine for the first time. It was more painful that I thought, but also... the moment she walked out of the door of the nursery with the understanding that should we cross paths again one of us would get seriously hurt ( I still didnt have the heart to threated her with her heath, it was too soon) I felt myself free for the very first time. I knew that I was, because I was suddenly not tryig in any way to look for freadom.

It is a curious thing, is it not? The only moment that you search for freedom is when you lack it. But when you have it, what comes next becomes very comfusing. You have to figure out what you want to do with it, and it hard. But this wasn't my case.

I knew _exacly _what i wanted.

I wanted revenge...


	8. Chapter 8

**Broken ballerina**

The room i was pacing around in was so dark that i could barely make out my sorroundings. The night was dark as a grave and my tiny window barely let any illummination in even during the day. But even if my eyesight had not adjusted at the darkness, there wouldn't be much furniture to bump into. A table and two chairs tucket at one corner, a bed in the other, tiny bathroom at the other end of small corridor. That was it.

I had covered the distance between the entrance door and the bed countless times, sat and pretended to be still while i couldnt even help the little nervous twiches. Tried to read about the latest atacs and disapearings but found myself morbidly disinterest even in the death toll. When you read numbers in papers, murder seemed more like statistics than anything else - no wonder people were so sceptical at the begining of this war.

But it should be different for me: I have seen most of the deaths and accidents that make it to first page. When you lived things, the experiences tended to get real faster. Schepticism was not the cause of my short attantion span tonight. I was restless because i smiply hated this whole _waiting _process i had to be subjected to.

I had discovered that my nervosism from waiting came in many flavours, just like icecream. It touched the nerves in all kinds of ways: Waiting for news from the back lines, waiting for the signal to get in action, waiting for your team to make it back from a mission... waiting for those rare individuals i dared call friends to get back alive, to be breathing. All had one thing in comon though: every time i had to stand around and do nothing, i felt as helpless as nothing else could ever make me feel. Useless. Without any control over anything. Which explained the nervosism - a control freak doesnt like that - and maybe it coud explain even the fear.

It was a disconcerning feeling, especially after the years i had passed trying to hone my ability to take on anything head first and come out unscathed. It had been anger and betrayl that had first made me want to rise against those that had born me, but after a while i learned to deal. I was good at that - learning to cope with reality. It dawned on me that i had to try my everything to become as strong as the profecy had foretold me to be, or I would die at the hands of my nemesis one day simply because of carelesness. I coudn't aford that. That's when i really started practicing. Practicing death, curses to kill.

At the time, when i first heard my so called destiny, the entire world became my enemy. I was angry for a long time, with a lot of people. Then i decided that it was simply a waste of good energy, so I started fucusing on main targets... one at a time. Free of all chains, free from tradition and rules, free to finally hate and snark at all those who got within eyesight without distinguising from bloodstatus or housecolors. For a time i was a granade with its pin out, bouncing here and there, waiting for a place to explode, someone to impale.

Then i saw my first death happen. Right in front of my face, barely ten feet away from me. I still saw her terrified eyes, a blank look of fear staring at somewhere above my shoulder, her mouth opened up unaturally wide and frozen that way. They had broken her jaw so badly that the skin at teh corners of her lips had teared. Macabre... I had seen it happen, all of it. I dont know when her torture stopped being a show and turned into something else, but I do remember myself trying to cut the spells that were binding her the second i got teh chance. She was still alive, her face was unmarret still. She was just in a lot of pain. For teh logest time i thought i had been clearsighted when went to her, but now i knew that i must have been hysterical as well. Had I been in my right ming I would have remembered that she needed to be sedated. But I didn't. So she started screaming and begging for me not to hurt her as soon as i got near. She gave us away.

I resented her for her death. It was her fault, i remember thinking that. Denial is part of any experience I suppose. Her unaturally large smile would still wake me un at night in a cold sweat. It didnt take me too long to understand that where death was concerned, things became unintentionally sharp and absolute: my fault or someone elses. That simple. And that girls death had been the direct consequence of my incompetence. My arrogance. A life that could have been spared - this had never held any meaning for me before...

But things change, thank god. Like I said, once reality hits you in the face, you cant stay mad at your own injustices and miserable life for too long. You have to take sides if you got the balls. My side wasn't hard to chose. I hadn't much fancy for the Order, but it got me into the position to hurt people i belived had hurt me, and get away with it. How could the deal get any better!

Simple: it couldn't. It only got worse from there. And after a while i wasnt taking revenge anymore, but just trying to do something to stop all the blood flowing. I never thought i would get to see so much death within a lifetime... And after I saw that girl being murdered I thought i would never be able to pick up my wand and do harm to another living being, let alone kill it... But i was wrong. I was good at at in fack. It came easy for me.

And yes, I would be a liar if i said that hurting Death Eaters didnt send my adrenaline flying, but at least after some times i was able to play in a team and put our mission before my own reasons.

Yes, a lot had changed since Hogwart years. It felt a lifetime ago, but really it was just four years since i had finished my magical education. Thinking of my old school made me think of Dumbledore. One time, the order had been on one of its meetings, but everyone was eerie still and quiet. We had lost five people that day. It was clear that there was a rat in out midst, but Dumbledore had told me not to speak about this in front of the order. We had talked later that night. Talking with Dumbledore was easy. Much easier than it should be giving how much trouble i have put him through, but we werent talking about my misaprehentions. We were talking about the war - which was why discourse was free flowing. Dumbledore was the only one that knew everything about everyone. Nobody else knew more than they absolutely had to. We operated in nidipendent cells, but Dumbledore was our head. I resented that scheme and it pissed Black and Potter off to no end that i had the audacity to say it in front of the old man too, but that one time i had said it, Dumbledore had agreeed with me. Having him pull all the strings was an awfly dangerous game. What if he fell, what would happen then?

But even I didnt dare think of that one. Dumbledore was the only beacon of hope we had, the only one capable of matching His power, he was the symbol of the resitance. But that night, when i had told him about my suspitions, he had seemed so impossibly tired and old that for a moment it had scared me. He had sighed and shaken his head and I knew that for once the all-powerful Albus Dumbledore did not have the answer. That we would have to find that one out ourselves.

"I tried to prepare you..." He had whispered in such a low voice that i had barely heard him. I remember the pity had had flown throught me. The whole weight of the world was resting on those old bones and maybe that was too much even for one such as him. But then I became angry - so bloody pissed at his presumptious nature and Messiah-complex.

"Dont be so arrogant old man. You could never have prepared us for this, so stop blaming yoursef for shortcomings that have no reasonable explenation." I had spoken harshly, coldly, without getting out of caracter one bit, but Dumbledore had still smiled at me as he looked up. Smiled at me like he knew exacly what i was doing, what i was saynig. He was indeed an interesting piece of antique, he really was. He'd make a fine specimen of lunacy if anyone ever decided to put him in a glass box and show him off in a museum. And it had been through his eyes that the world had gone from black and white to almost too vividly colored for me - for all his stuents really. It had been by his side and following his steps that most left the protection of the castle walls and without trepidation joined the fight.

I hated to admit it, but it was also his council that helped me find a way back to myself. He gave me choise, something i felt i had never had. Choice to stay miserable or do something about it. The possibility to make a difference... and get what i wanted in return. It had been a nice surprise. Even thought i knew he was manipulating me into joining his side of the battle i didnt resent him for it. I knew what he wanted and it just so happened to be the same thing I wanted: put an end to the war. He didnt want to put an end to pureblood society altoghether, but this was the one point we disagreed: for me _that _was the only way. Dumbledore had other ideas, even thought he never bothered to expand on them.

He helped me get better at my magic though. Helped me hone my dueling skills. He refused to teach me the most agressive spells (in his words _'I will not and certaintly never shall teach any student of mine black magic'_) but he was wrong on that one too. I knew what we were dealing with. I knew i would need every spell ever made, especiall the dark ones. I got good. Even better than before. There was something different about thinking you were better than anyone and knowing that by some definition you really were different. It was the difference between knowing the path, and walking the path. The profecy proved my point - i was meant for big things... just not the nesecarily good kind.

The important thing was that I rarely felt weak or ill equiped for a situation now...

And still, despite all the spells i knew and the skill i had, whenever i was made to stand and watch, the impotence got to me badly. I wanted action, i wanted to feel useful. One might say that i was even a little adicted to it, that i couldn't deal with a situation that was not in crisis. _Bull-shit_, all of it. I wasnt a battle adict. I was just batteworn, there is a difference. Everyone was nervous when nothing happened these days. We had goten used so much to the battles and the action that when they were missing it felt wrong, like the prelude to something omnious. Everything was upside down now. Quiet was dangerous and threats were the rule.

I took stopped breathing to listent to teh sounds of thei night. There was nothing out of the ordinary about it. No suspitious crumbling or footsteps anywhere near.

_Goddamit!_

  
I tried not to lose my nerve, tried to stay calm, knowing that i wouldn't be able to reach that point. I knew that i should be able to block all these feelings out. I could if i wanted to, but the thing was, i didnt _want _to be emotionless. I wanted to feel this. I was not afraid of the pain anymore. Caring brought pain, of a different kind, i had learned that throught him, and I didn't want to lose it. I had this unreasonable suspition that once i blocked him out, i would never be able to reach to him again. After all, I hadn't reached to him first, he had been the one to come for me. It was very much like him actually. Almost made me regret that I had not been able to be different long ago, just so that i could have had more time with him.

But i knew that was a fools wish. I didnt even truly want it really. If there was one thing that i was glad about, that was my past, my Hogwarts reputation. With it, everyone knew how much of a danger I could be. A very clear idea existed, especially among my former house-mates, of what i was capable of. Most Slytherins I had known were now either His slaves, in prison or dead. Everyone, on both sides, feared me… and for good reason. But not those that mattered though.

Yet for all my power, I was helpless when it came to the missions others carried. All I could do was walk around and clutch at my robes, pretend to be clam and the walk around again. The thought of the possibilities of what he might be doing were enought to send shivers down my spine. I knew what he was… and surely so did Voldemort. And the fact that he had been one of the best wizards of our generation made him a desirable bait. For either side.

It wasn't the fact that he was out fighting tht was keeping me on my toes. it was the facttaht he was late. He was never late. It was not in his nature to keep people waiting. Andd tehse days, if someone didnt show up in time itt usually meant they were already dead. I took a deep breath and held it in. So much had changed so fast. School had finished, the war had started to spill everywhere so fast and all of a suden we didn't have the luxury of holding others to their promises anymore. They might not live long enough to keep them. So we didn't make promises at all.

Yes, life had altered... or maybe it was the world that had changed. Or was it us? On whom to blame all this carnage? Who was to be held responsible? Was there even such a thing? Meybe were were looking for someone to hold responsible just so that we wouldn't have to bear all the weight of our own mistakes alone.

I remember being sorrounded once, right outside Diagon Alley. We'd just gotten out of a mission gone terribly wrong. We'd gotten what we wanted but Death Eaters had started spouting all over the place. I was with Bones, the redhead from the intelligence department of the Order. An incredibly stealthy girl, which was always useful. I had picked her for this mission myself. We were all both hurt: she had a broken arm and i had a gash on my back that no matter what i did to it it wouldn't heal. And i remember her looking at the distruction around us and whispering something. '_God, do not turn your face away... help us... help us...' _I remember thinking strangely of her for sayig that. I couldn't imagine a god with a heart so big to forgive all the evil man was capable of. I simply could not imagine it. Maybe he had just goten tired of seeing us slaughter each other and had left, had turned away, just like Bones suspected. I could not blame him.

I looked at the small table and saw the papers stacked there neetly. Marlene was suposed to come by 2 hours ago to pick those papers up. She would need them, they were the coordination of her next mission, and yet she had not come. But she, on the other hand, was always late. She indulged herself too much. She shouldn't see her family so often, it was not safe for either of them. She would get herself into trouble and then it would be hard to stop trouble from getting to everyone else.

He was late! He was _too _late! _Where _was he?! If the Death Eaters had not killed him, I would skin him alive myself for makingme feel so unlike myself… Yet it was not so out of his way to make me feel unlike myself. He did that even when we were at school, even though I never understood how or why. He would always get the most extreme reaction of me, even thought I awlways directed them at others, just so that I could deny it was him that affected me so.

I heard teh crack of the wooden floor one second too late.

There was a soft knock and I had raised my wand to the door before it even opened fully, pointing it strait in the middle of his eyes. I was altoghether unblinking and cold as an iceblock, controled. The curse was at the tip of my tongue. Ihad but to finish the thought in my head and the man standing in my doorway would be a puddle f goo at my feet. Never trust what you see - that was the first rule they had taught us as soon as we entere the order.

"Careful there, you're going to poke my eye out." He dared to smirk at me!

"Keep you hands where i can see them." I said, my voice flat, the emotions tightly wrapped up and away in a distant corner of my brain. "What is your boggard?" I was in love, but I wasn't stupid yet.

"The full moon." He answered calmly. I waited a little before lowering my wand. I had to give the comand to by arm more than once. _'lower you wand... com on Dorcas... lower-your-fucking-arm'. _I felt so tightly wrapped up the reality that anything could kill me at any time that my reflexes and survive mechanism had dificulties understandng the fact that there was no danger in sight this time. Fear did that to you. You started trusting your instincts to protect you and when your brain went against them, it was hard to make it prevail. My instinct was to hex this man into a bottle... But that was a soldier speaking.

Because i knew that we had never studied boggars at Hogwarts. He had been the one to tell me what questions to ask him in case of a security risk. What he faered most was the full moon... It was a strange thing to fear when there was so much out there that could kill him in a second, but with all the pain that he went thgouth every month, it was understandable. He'd told me once that Crucio was not halp bad compared to what he had to feel during transformations. I took him at his word, because he had been there and felt both those kinds of pain on his skin... but i admit it had hard to imagine anythign more painful than Crucio.

He walked to me and before he could put his arms around me, I took in the fact that he was paler than usual, skinier than what i remembered seeing him last. Tiredness oozed from his whole person and he was trying to hide behind a smile. He smelled of himself and old clothes. He was gentle and warm, something I hadn't known I needed until I had a taste of what it felt like. First I had always thought I wanted him on a simple whim. Yet everything turned into something... different. There was something he did that made me feel like my insides were movable, like i was made of breakable things and it was ok - when in any other circumstance that mistake would have been deadly.

We had some kind of unspoken agreement, that when we met like this, we would act like we used to, that we would help each-other forget about what things had come to. But it wasn't that easy. It was only a matter of time now, before hell broke loose. We were both among the most wanted from those who called themselves Death Eaters. - I called them brainless puppets, and maybe psychopathic inbreeds at best. I wondered if this was the case among us purebloods: genetic flaws caused by misplaced pride and ignorance that caused them to marry their second cousins and give birth to creatures of the like of Bellatrix Black... The point was, were weren't those taht fought in the shadows. They knew our faces, were were teh ones taht fought in the first lines. Ithad to be that way, someone had to come out and pretend not to be afraind.

We had all defied His power in some way and we were good enough to escape his wrath before it hitus every now and again. The cat and mouse game couldn't go on forever. He would stop trying to have us for himself and he'd start really trying to kill us. I didn't understand, after all the damage we'd caused his sidelines, after the numbers of his people that i had myself sent to him cripeled, how could he possibly believe that any of us would turn to him, try to make peace with him?

Lily and James were the first ones He had wanted – His Death Eaters met them both in the middle of Diagon Alley and at their refusal to join him, the fight issued. He had been there himself, Lily and James had both fought against him directly. The fact that they survived made them instantly heroes with a death sentence over their heads. It was believed by most that the fight that day was a clear attempt to end the life of Lily Evans and James Potter. I believed it was just a test. A test to see how much of their power was true and how much was books and grades. He was in for a surprise, as were many others. They somehow respected James, because he was a pureblood, even thought a bloodtraidor. They could understand where his strength came from, could make peace with teh fact. But hatred for Lily among his followers had never been more ardent. Especially from Bellatrix. The bitch was present in every accasion Lily had had the misforture of dealing with Death Eaters. It was like Bella stalked her or something.

Bellatrix loathed Lily more that she hated even me, and i had told Lily this was a good thing. Potter had difficulties agreeing with me, but Lily listened very atentively. I had come to like that about her: she listened atentively to everything. To me it was clear that for as long as Bella continued to hate Lily so, Lily Evans would have a chance to stay alive, because Voldemort would not want to kill her. But when Bellatrix started to despise Lily, as she despised all muggleborns… then it would mean real trouble. That would be the sign Voldemort had given up his persuasion and was now adamant to get teh kill over with. And even though we did not fear his followers, we had seen Him and what He could do, how effectively he could annihilate anything.

The second time came a year after. It had been the four of them together: James, Lily, Remus and Sirius, when the fight issued. They were ambushed in the middle of muggle London. Half the park had been blown away by the time I arrived. Six Death Eaters had been left behind, all unconscious and bleeding from different places. Two of them were torn up really bad. I didn't need a map to know that only Sirius Black could have had the nerve to do that.

The field was empty and I thought no one was there, so I ran to the pub where I knew that Remus and the others were barricaded. I didn't make it there, because of my encounter with my old school friend. As Bellatrix screeched a killing curse at me, I jumped out of the way, but its force burned my arm. I have a scar there that will not go away anytime soon. She had not been alone, but neither was I. She was the only female Death Eater in His ranks and it didnt take a genious to know that if there was ever going to be a counterpart to whom that profecy refered to, it would be Bellatrix. She knew that. I knew that. Suffices to say that we were both going for the kill that day.

And i did kill. Twice. Both times using knifes, both times she managed to escape by range. I and Bella were skilled at knifes, we had practiced together some times. I still haven't felt sorry for the lives I had to end. It was my life or theirs and I wasn't stupid enough to believe it could be any other way. This was why many of my own side never really liked me. I was too cruel for them, almost as cruel as the ones we fought against, but I knew that time would teach them reason. I wasn't cruel at all, at least not how they though me to be. I just a few steps ahead of the curve. I knew what they were capable of. So did Sirius and Andromeda. We all knew, because we had seen them, we knew them well. They had raised us and by some chance of destiny, by some whim, we were drawn aside. But that didnt make us forget who we were fighting against.

Still, we survived that second time too. To say that it had been a stroke of luck would be blasphemy. We were good fighters, we had held on to our lives tooth and nail, that was teh ony reason we were alive. Luck could go fuck himself.

After that encounter, it was said Voldemort became almost obsessed with the idea of killing those four: Black Potter, Lily and Remus. As for me, he had been entertaining the thought of killing me ever since he found out the meaning of my existence. If with Lily and James he wasnt very serious and the orders were to capture them alive, but with me it was different, and the proof of that was the number of killing curses that flew my way.

The third time, a few months ago, Potter and Lily hadn't been so lucky. There had been too many that time. I was told the story, I hadn't been there. I was being held captive at one of His cells at the time. My escape had caused Him to kill those that were supposed to guard me - the ones I had left alive by mistake. The only reason I was able to escape the fortress I was being held into, was because so many of his puppets and He himself were too busy killing my allies.

It had started as a small ambush for Lily and James. They were fools to still kepp working toghether at that point - they were like danger magnets - but none of them listened to me when it came to that particular detail. Maybe they believed that being toghether made them stronger. After that time, i started to believe them a little too. Both sides had sent for reinforcements and everything had blown out of proportion very fast, turning to the first full blown battle since the war had started. It was the first time Dumbledore fought against Voldemort face to face. The old man had come just in time, because if he had been a second later, Lile and James would have no doubt been dead.

Many had died that day, too many from our side of the line. Doherty, both of Deira's brothers, Peterson and Alia, Minerva's husband and her son, Frank's father and his uncle, Morgan, Alex and Tobias, the White sisters. Too many… James and Lily had barely made it out alive both with extensive burns, Sirius with a broken arm and dislocated shoulder, Remus with half his back slashed, Peter with his forehead almost cracked, Frank and Alice were exausted and had fainted on their way to the holpital… This was the third time Voldemort tried to end them and failed. An entire London boulevard had been blown to pieces. I had seen the pictures from the aftermath... and was glad that I hadn't been there. One more nightmar I won't have to suffer through.

"Are you listening to me?" I had been so lost in my thoughts I had not heard half of what Remus had said. He looked amused by my lack of attention. Usually I was very attentive.

"I was talking about how ugly this old rag looks."

"You don't like my house, you can go sleep in yours Lupin." He laughed and we were layig so close that I felt his chuckle from head to toe. His face calm as he searched my eyes. He didn't voice his questions; he was waiting for me to speak.

"I saw someone being murdered today. He was just a child, not more that 12. I saw it and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The bomb exploded right in front of him..." I took a deep breath and didnt notice the minutes going by in silence. He touched the scratches along my face, understanding where they came from.

"I keep seeing him in flames. He had beautiful brown eyes." We never openly asked where our wounds came from. This was the way now. He was silent and just kept still for a wile. He somehow always knew that words of consoling were the worst thing to say in these moments. I would snap at anyone, even God, if he told me everything would be all right.

I wasnt looking at him when i spoke. I was just thinking out loud. "Sometimes i wonder, will god ever forgive us for what he had done to each other... But then I look around and remember, god has left this place a long time ago."

The silence between us was immense, but not parting us. He actually pulled me closer. I didnt need words and i was sure he had nothing to say even if he had wanted to say something. Words were waisted on teh things we were made to see ever day. Perhaps there would never be enought words to make the blood go away, make it worlth something. Give all the death a meaning. Why did tehre have to be a meaning to it? What was it with man and his compulsion to undestand everything? Was it arrogance. Explain things, so that they can be axplained away?

"I love kids. I could even have my own…" This time Remus looked at me with a stormy emotion in his eyes. He didn't know what to make of my words, but he also knew that I sometimes just said things, to make the pain go away. He could bear with me. He was probably the only person I knew that could do that. The sweet, caring, loving Remus Lupin. I saw in him what I had always been missing in life. Even at school…

He gave his love so freely, and I hated the people around him that never took it seriously. I wanted that! I deserved that! And now that I had it, I felt stupid for not being brave enough to make myself known to him before. My whole life I have been glad to have such walls around me. They made me feel safe. But in a room with him, before his love was mine, I just felt lonely behind my blockade. He was the one person that could make me feel that way, the only one - the amazing one.

"…I would give them yellow roses. And I would kiss them every day, and tell them you don't have to be anybody, because I would know that being somebody doesn't make you anybody anyway." I closed my eyes, felt his lips on my forehead and I was glad that in the midst of my life - a life that I knew would be spent in too much hate and fighting for it to be pleasant - I had something as special as this feeling to keep me company. As everything else in this world, this was another contradiction. My whole existence, my very essence contradicted itself. I even saw the world that way: In this place we live our lives in, the whole picture is chaos, but the details are mesmerizing and of terrible power, be it good or bad.

In something so illogical and immensely fucked up, death seemed like an old mate we gazed from a distance every now and then. She was our friend, and she was not as scary if you tried to look beyond the blackness of the unknown and the coldness of her face. She could not possibly be the end of a all things, she was just a messenger after all, her power and might were all empty cockiness.

-

"My dearest Dorkas. Do you know what is going to happen now?" I looked at him, white face, red eyes of fire, cloaked in black. His walking around my body on the floor was making terror run through my veins and I tried to calm the beats of my heart, but they would not obey me. I was sweating and despite the so many hurting parts of my body that, it didn't take much effort to know that this was my end. I had never been so close to Him before and even thought it was true that he could not kill with a glance, he was probably the last thing i would ever see in this life.

The smile on his lips was the seal on my death. I felt my heart slow down. I had been prepared for this, there as no reason to make it worse that it would be. He was probably going to finish me quickly; I had irritated him too much to want to play with me anymore.

"Let me tell you my dear." His voice slithered on my skin, making goose-pumps appear. I felt my body being lifted from the ground and the sharp pain in my right leg confirmed that I had broken it.

"Let me show you what happens to those that turn against their own blood." My face was lower than his, but I was standing. From this angle I could see Bellatrix's body lying a few feet from me. I had failed to kill her, her Lord saving her life at the last moment. Yet, she would never forget this duel, I was sure. She would never forget that I defeated her and the scars would be there to prove it.

He sensed my eyes on her, and smirked. "Yes, you are a better fighter. You could have been great. But you chose the wrong side."

My memory, my every nerve recognized the pain as soon as it began. I screamed, not as much of pain as out of anger. It seemed years before it ended. The sting on my broken leg felt a hundred times more powerful, when the spell was lifted. It had been silly of me to thin that he wouldnt make me suffer a little before finishing me. The little nails were still piercing my skin, even with the Unforgivable lifted. He took his time, again and again, making his Death Eaters have a little fun too. By the time they were finished I could not even speak to beg for my death. A little lucidity came back, induced by him, to be able to deliver the last of his blows. He was close to my face, spoke in whisperes and smiling. I was too far gone to understand him.

"I want you to die knowing all your friends will be dead in a few days. I know where James Potter and Lily Evans are hiding… I know the identity of every single one of the precious, helpless members of the Order you created to fight me! Not even their name will remain after I am through with them! Thank an old friend, Dorkas, for their deaths…"

I heard him but could not make sense of his words. They seemed like meaningless rambling. All I could see was the whole McKinnon family pinned to the walls of their house by knives. My gut suffered the sight for the second time this evening. My brain was unable to respond to it anymore, but my body seemed to weep out its last piece of life. Marlene was between her brother and his two little girls.

"Now you are finally going to die."

As I had predicted, it wasn't much. After the green flash I saw her face. She had the same cold white skin I remembered her with, and the darkness that engulfed her seemed traitorous, yet, right behind her, a little difficult to spot, but there none the less, was the faintest glow.

I had lived my life and that day it ended. I had lived it the wrong way and the right way, I had done it all, and had a little portion happiness too. I had not been really good at living, but then again, even if you were good at it, what exactly were you good at?

Life and death, energy and peace. Even though I stopped today, it was still worth it. Even the terrible mistakes that I made and would have unmade if I could. The pains that have burned me and scarred my soul, it was worth it, for having been allowed to walk where I've walked, which was to hell on earth, heaven on earth, back again, into, under, far in between, through it, in it, and above.

**AN**: _First of, I hope you enjoyed the story.  
So... the last - and longest - chapter... how did it leave you guys? Are you dessapointed, angry? Did it meet your expectations? What didnt? What do you think of the relationship between Remus and Dorcas - too unexpected, too undeveloped? Hit me with whatever in on you mind!_

Disclaimers: **Gia** – the movie quotes.  
1- I could have my own children. I would give them yellow roses… And I would kiss them every day, and tell them you don't have to be anybody, because I would know that being somebody doesn't make you anybody anyway.

2- Life and death, energy and peace. If I stop today it was still worth it. Even the terrible mistakes that I made and would have unmade if I could. The pains that have burned me and scarred my soul, it was worth it, for having been allowed to walk where I've walked, which was to hell on earth, heaven on earth, back again, into, under, far in between, through it, in it, and above.

3- I aint good at this. And even if you are good at this, what exactly are you good at?


End file.
